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THE  v POWER  OF   IDEALS 
IN  AMERICAN   HISTORY* 


BY 

Ephraim  Douglass  Adams,  Ph.  D.    l£~* 

Professor  of  History, 
Leland  Stanford,  Jr.,  University 


NEW  HAVEN:  YALE  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

LONDON:   HUMPHREY  MILFORD 

OXFORD  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

MCMXIII 


,/V?, 


COPYRIGHT,  1913 

BY 

YALK  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 


First  printed  November,  1913,  1000  copies 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

I  Nationality — a  Faith    .          .          .          .         3 

II  Anti-Slavery — a  Crusade       ...       33 

III  Manifest  Destiny — an  Emotion     .          .       65 

IV  Religion — a  Service     .          .          .          .'97 
V  Democracy — a  Vision  .          .          .          .127 


281418 


INTRODUCTION 

The  lectures  hitherto  given  under  the  auspices  of 
the  Dodge  Foundation  for  Citizenship  have  em 
bodied  the  thought  of  distinguished  men,  famous 
in  some  field  of  public  service, — in  law,  in  state 
administration,  or  in  church  organization.  These 
men,  speaking  from  personal  experience,  have  been 
able  to  present  in  didactic  form,  ethical  standards 
of  conduct.  The  teacher  of  American  history  will 
certainly  affirm  that  he  also  has  standards  of  con 
duct  and  he  naturally  turns  to  history  itself,  seek 
ing  in  the  experience  of  the  past  great  principles  of 
national  progress.  If  it  can  be  shown  that  the 
American  people  have  been  largely  influenced  in 
their  development  by  jnoral  principles^  or  by  ideals, 
it  is  at  least  a  safe  presumption  that  ideals  still 
animate  this  nation. 

I  wish  then  to  recall  to  your  remembrance  certain 
leading  ideals,  powerful  in  their  influence  upon  our 
history,  in  the  past  one  hundred  years.  Before 
undertaking  this,  however,  permit  me  an  expla 
nation  of  the  reason  for  my  choice  of  subject. 
There  is  today  a  very  decided  tendency  to  seek 
purely  material  reasons  for  historical  development, 
and  especially  so,  apparently,  in  American  history. 
The  causes  of  the  American  Revolution  are  asserted 


x  INTRODUCTION 

to  have  been  almost  wholly  commercial,  to  the 
exclusion  of  those  ideals  of  political  and  religious 
freedom  which  our  forefathers  loudly  voiced,  and 
which  their  descendants  have  accepted  as  a  creed. 
Upon  this  period  of  our  history  I  do  not  propose 
to  touch,  but  it  is  interesting  to  observe  that  the 
modern  interpretation  differs  little  from  the  con 
temporary  accusations  of  British  writers, — as  in  the 
words  of  Thomas  Moore,  expressing  contempt  for 
sordid  motives  hidden  under  the  guise  of  liberty. 

"  Those  vaunted  demagogues,  who  nobly  rose 
From  England's  debtors  to  be  England's  foes, 
Who  could  their  monarch  in  their  purse  forget, 
And  break  allegiancef  but  to  cancel  debt." 

This  seeking  for  the  material  basis  of  historical 
development  is  not  indeed  a  new  pursuit.  Buckle 
expressed  it  in  terms  of  geographic  environment, 
"The  mountains  made  men  free."  But  it  was 
answered,  "Men  who  would  not  be  slaves,  who 
would  be  free,  fled  to  the  mountains."  It  may  be 
that  when  England  has  become  a  memory,  and 
Holland  a  myth,  the  advocate  of  geographic 
environment  will  find  in  the  rocks  and  in  the  chill 
ing  mists  of  New  England  the  forces  that  created 
the  Puritan  conscience,  and  dwarfed  his  emotions. 
In  the  sunshine  and  clear  atmosphere  of  my  own 
state  of  California,  the  kindly  critic  finds  excuse 
for  the  unrest  of  its  people, — and  for  their  warm 


INTRODUCTION  xi 

impulses.  The  motto  of  Stanford  University,  "Die 
Luft  der  Freiheit  went,"  has  an  intoxicating  effect 
upon  the  Eastern  tourist,  and  he  frequently  becomes 
a  living  testimony  to  the  influence  of  geographical 
environment.  Yes,  "the  wind  of  freedom  is  blow 
ing," — but  as  one  observer  remarked,  "It  is  not  a 
hurricane."  The  ideals  of  California  are  not 
founded  in  geography,  or  in  climate.  They  are 
founded,  as  elsewhere,  in  the  spirit. 

In  truth,  students  of  American  history  today, 
particularly  the  economic  specialist,  and  the  geo 
graphic  historian,  are  too  much  inclined  to  claim  for 
the  results  of  their  research,  the  attributes  of  an 
all-powerful,  all-compelling  force.  The  careful 
scholar,  though  his  principal  interest  beVndustrial 
progress,  makes  no  such  claim.  Bogart,  in  the 
preface  to  his  "Economic  History  of  the  United 
States,"  says,  "The  keynote  of  all  American  history, 
from  whatever  standpoint  it  may  be  written,  is 
found  in  the  efforts  of  a  virile  and  energetic  people 
to  appropriate  and  develop  the  wonderful  natural 
resources  of  a  new  continent  and  there  to  realize 
their  ideals  of  liberty  and  government."  With  such 
a  statement  there  can  be  no  quarrel ;  the  concluding 
phrase  is  indeed  the  major  premise.  But  other 
writers  either  forget  that  premise,  or  deny  it. 
Simons,  a  determined  materialist  in  history,  begins 
the  preface  of  his  "Social  Forces  in  American 
History"  with  this  assertion: 


41 


xii  INTRODUCTION 

"That  political  struggles  are  based  upon  eco 
nomic  interests  is  today  disputed  by  few  students  of 
society.  .  .  .  Back  of  every  political  party  there  has 
always  stood  a  group  or  class  which  expected  to 
profit  by  the  activity  and  the  success  of  that  party." 

And  his  book  is  an  attempt  to  prove  that  through 
out  the  whole  course  of  American  history,  economic 
interests  alone  have  determined  political  action. 
This  idea  is  developed  to  the  exclusion  of  all  other 
forces.  In  short,  he  asserts  the  "economic  man." 

It  is  this  latter  extreme  contention  that  I  wish  to 
deny, — not  by  analysis  and  criticism,  but  by  an 
appeal  to  the  facts  of  our  history,  for  a  fact,  a 
truth  of  history,  may  be  something  wholly  impos 
sible  of  reduction  to  concrete  terms;  it  may  be  an 
emotion,  a  sentiment,  or  an  ideal,  and  as  such,  so 
long  as  it  is  generally  accepted,  even  though  it  be 
directly  contrary  to  economic  interests,  it  may  be 
an  all-powerful  spring  of  conduct,  and  the  prime 
cause  of  political  action.  The  "economic  man"  is 
a  fiction.  Over  seventy-five  years  ago,  here  at  Yale, 
in  a  Phi  Beta  Kappa  address,  Horace  Bushnell 
denied  that  such  a  man,  as  the  sole  moving  cause 
of  history,  had  any  real  existence.  "There  is,"  he 
said,  "a  whole  side  of  society  and  human  life  which 
does  not  trade,"  and  which  "wields,  in  fact,  a 
mightier  power  over  the  public  prosperity  itself  just 
because  it  reaches  higher  and  connects  with  nobler 
ends." 


INTRODUCTION  xiii 

This  is  not  to  deny,  nor  does  any  one  deny,  the 
influence  of  industries  and  of  geography,  in  national  y 
growth.     All  that  I  wish  to  express  is  that  there   \ 
are_  other  influences  of  an  intellectual, — it  may  be  1 
a  spiritual,— ^¥aTacter7~an(l,  m  a  tim&  flf  UTidtrer~  \  \    L 
emphasis  upon  the  materialism  of  American  history,     \\&-- 
to  recall  to  your  memory  a  few  of  the  great  ideals 
that    have    animated    our    national    conduct    and  w   / 
moulded    our    destiny.      I    shall    attempt    neither 
explanation  nor  analysis  of  these  ideals,  but  rather 
shall   seek  to   show  by   straightforward  historical 
review   and  by   familiar   quotations   from   leading 
Americans  of  the  time,  the  force  that  was  in  them. 
Therefore  I  have  called  these  lectures  "The  Power 
of  Ideals  in  American  History,"  and  the  topics  to 
be  treated  are  Nationality,  Anti-Slavery,  Manifest 
Destiny,  Religion,  and  Democracy. 

^"'~*Wr"*^--'*l«**Cw,J»»*^»  •     •""«-*«. .**»•*.. a*-^,...,.,        ,   J.iu-,.<**t. 


YALE   LECTURES   ON   THE 
RESPONSIBILITIES   OF   CITIZENSHIP 


THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS  IN 
AMERICAN  HISTORY 


I 

NATIONALITY— A  FAITH 


I 

NATIONALITY— A  FAITH 

A  nation  is  defined  as  "a  people  associated 
together  and  organized  under  one  civil  government, 
and  ordinarily  dwelling  together  in  a  distinct  terri 
tory."  Nationality  implies  a  sense  by  such  a  people 
of  their  independence  and  their  unity,  with  the 
patriotic  determination  to  preserve  these  conditions. 
In  the  present  time,  it  is  difficult  to  think  in  terms 
not  national,  whether  we  regard  Europe  or  America. 
But  one  hundred  years  ago  this  was  far  from  true. 
England,  France,  and  Spain,  alone  of  the  great 
powers  of  Europe,  possessed  the  conditions  and  the 
spirit  of  nationality.  The  evidence  of  that  spirit 
was  abroad,  however,  and  nationality  is  rightly 
held  to  have  been  the  most  powerful  ideal  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  More  than  any  other  force 
it  wrecked  Napoleon's  dream  of  an  empire  of 
Western  Europe,  and  as  one  looks  at  Vincenzo 
Vela's  wonderful  marble,  "The  Last  Days  of  Napo 
leon,"  in  the  Corcoran  Art  Gallery,  one  wonders 
whether  the  feeble  invalid,  with  the  map  of  Europe 
spread  upon  his  knees,  whose  eyes  seem  visioning 
what  might  have  been,  may  not  have  recognized  at 
last  the  force,  the  ideal,  that  had  defeated  him. 


THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

In  America,  the  ideal  of  our  revolutionary  fathers 
was  independence.  But  it  was  not  national  inde 
pendence.  Each  colony  jealously  guarded  its  sense 
of  separate  existence,  and  independence  from  Great 
Britain  once  assured,  each  state,  in  spite  of  the 
forms  of  a  wider  nation,  maintained  its  sover 
eignty.  Difficulties  at  home  and  dangers  from 
abroad  forced  the  adoption  of  the  Constitution  of 
1787.  There  were  a  few  men  in  the  convention, 
and  a  few  also  in  the  country  at  large,  who  rejoiced 
in  this  first  step  toward  American  nationality. 
Timothy  Dwight,  later  to  be  one  of  the  greatest 
of  Yale's  distinguished  line  of  presidents,  was 
inspired  to  address  the  constitutional  convention  of 
1787  in  a  poem  beginning  with  these  lines : 

"  Be  then  your  counsels,  as  your  subject,  great, 
A  world  their  sphere,  and  time's  long  reign  their  date. 
Each  party-view,  each  private  good,  disclaim, 
Each  petty  maxim,  each  colonial  aim; 
Let  all  Columbia's  weal  your  views  expand, 
A  mighty  system  rule  a  mighty  land." 

But  such  visions,  such  an  ideal,  were  not  felt  by 
the  mass  of  men.  Timothy  Dwight  in  all  his  views 
and  policies  has  been  rightly  described  as  "an 
earnest  of  the  nineteenth  century," — a  forerunner 
of  his  times.  The  constitution,  said  John  Quincy 
Adams,  was  "extorted  from  the  grinding  neces 
sity  of  a  reluctant  nation,"  and  these  words,  save 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  5 

that  there  was  no  nation,  accurately  depict  con 
temporary  attitude.  In  view  of  the  later  "worship 
of  the  constitution,"  it  is  hard  to  realize  that  there 
was  a  long  period  when  the  spirit  of  independence, 
the  fear  of  a  centralized  government,  made  men 
suspicious  of,  and  even  opposed  to,  a  real  American 
unity.  Nearly  ten  years  later,  Washington,  in  his 
farewell  address  of  1796,  gave  three  lines  to  the 
topic  "liberty,"'  taking  It "  for  granted  that  love 
of  liberty  was  securely  planted  in  the  hearts  of  the 
people,  while  nearly  one  fifth  of  the  entire  address 
was  devoted  to  arguments  showing  the  value  of  a 
permanent  Union  of  the  states.  This  was  indeed 
his  central  thought,  evidence  of  his  fear  of  a  new 
separation  of  the  states,.,^. 

I  shall  not  follow,  step  by  step,  the  growth  of 
the  sense  of  American  nationality.  It  was  a 
gradual  development,  hastened  at  the  last  by  the 
patriotic  fervor  evoked  in  the  second  war  with 
England,— the  War  of  1812.  Defeated  though  we 
were  in  that  war,  our  capitol  burnt,  our  ports 
blockaded,  our  shipping  driven  from  the  seas,  we 
emerged  triumphant,  not  because  of  our  success 
in  a  few  naval  duels,  or  of  Jackson's  belated  victory 
at  New  Orleans,  but  because,  cutting  loose  from 
all  dependence  on  European  alliances,  trusting  in 
our  right,  and  exhibiting  our  willingness  to  fight 
for  right,  we  had  given  notice  to  the  world  that 
we  were  a  nation.  But  the  greater  triumph  was 


6  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

over  ourselves.  By  1815  the  sense  of  nationality 
was  established, — not  so  firmly  as  to  escape  grave 
danger  in  the  future, — but  still  sufficiently  estab 
lished  to  have  become  a  recognized  ideal.  To  the 
astonishment  of  the  oldtime  conservatives,  and  to 
the  dismay  of  many  a  politician  accustomed  to  play 
upon  the  local  jealousies  of  the  people,  there  had 
arisen  a  belief  in  national  destiny,  a  sense  of  remote 
ness  from  older  nations  and  older  customs,  a  con 
sciousness  of  a  separate  and  distinct  existence  for 
America,  in  short,  an  ideal  of  unity  and  of  nation 
ality.  Let  us  see  what  force  this  ideal  had,  how  it 
was  expressed,  what  its  influence  was,  in  our  later 
history. 

The  Monroe  Doctrine  of  1823,  warning  European 
powers  that  the  United  States  regarded  the  Ameri 
can  continents  as  no  longer  subject  to  colonization, 
and  protesting  against  a  concert  of  action  to  aid 
Spain  in  recovering  her  revolted  dependencies,  was 
a  notice  served  upon  the  world  that  we  had  become 
a  nation.  This  was  the  application  of  a  new  ideal 
to  conditions  outside  our  territory.  .But  the  real 
test  of  the  new  force  came  from  within,  when  it 
was  brought  in  conflict  with  the  divergent  interests 
of  different  sections.  When  separate  states  lose 
their  individuality  in  union,  when  a  nation  comes 
into  actual  being,  one  of  the  most  vital  evidences 
of  that  union  is  found  in  the  willingness  to  adopt 
a  general,  rather  than  a  local,  system  of  taxation. 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  7 

Thus  the  question  of  federal  taxation  in  the  United 
States  early  assumed  an  importance  greater  than 
the  mere  matter  of  revenue.  A  tariff  system  on 
imports  promised  to  give  needed  revenue  without 
great  friction,  aijd  in  its  original  application  there 
was  little  thought  of  the  relation  to  national  con 
sciousness.  But  steadily,  after  1815,  a  tariff  for 
revenue  was  expanded  into  a  protective  tariff,  and 
became  identified  with  the  ideal  of  nationality. 
Clay,  the  father  of  the  cry  for  "home  markets," 
sought  to  popularize  his  financial  policy,  by  calling 
it  the  "American  system" — inaccurately  differen 
tiating  it  from  a  "European  system."  With  the 
truth  or  falsity  of  his  financial  theories  or  his  terms 
I  have  here  no  concern.  The  essential  thing  is  that 
the  cry  "American  system"  was  effective, — that  it 
brought  votes,  and  that  it  gave  to  the  protection 
of  home  industries  a  support  vastly  greater  than 
could  have  been  derived  from  those  directly  and 
consciously  benefited  by  protection.  The  speeches 
in  Congress  and  on  the  stump  urged  protective 
duties  on  the  score  of  public  revenue,  of  direct 
benefit,  and  of  a  separate  and  distinct  national  ideal, 
and  the  last  argument  usually  predominated.  The 
materialistic  writer  of  American  history  sees  in  the 
adoption  of  a  protective  system  merely  the  play  of 
industrial  interests,  nor  is  it  to  be  denied  that  these 
industrial  interests  were  powerful.  But  the  fact 
must  not  be  lost  sight  of  that  the  ideal  of  nation- 


8  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

ality  was  used  to  support  the  system,  that  its  being 
so  used  is  proof  of  a  popular  identification  of  pro 
tection  with  nationality,  and  above  all  that  when 
an  industrial  interest  in  1830,  opposed  to  protective 
duties,  forced  a  renunciation  of  the  theory  of  pro 
tection,  there  was  brought  out  the  most  eloquent 
expression  yet  voiced  of  a  belief  in  nationality,  and 
the  most  determined  action  yet  taken  in  support 
of  it. 

In  1816  a  tariff  had  been  enacted,  protective  in 
its  nature,  yet  intended  primarily  to  raise  revenue. 
In  1824,  after  a  moderate  increase  of  rates  in 
various  years,  the  "American  system"  had  come 
into  its  own,  and  the  protective  principle  was  defi 
nitely  adopted  as  expressing  the  "American  idea." 
And  in  1828,  partly  through  the  madness  of  the 
protected  industries,  partly  through  political  chi 
canery  on  the  part  of  the  supporters  of  Andrew 
Jackson's  presidential  candidacy,  there  had  been 
enacted  a  tariff  so  high  that  it  was  known  as  the 
"Tariff  of  Abominations," — so  high  indeed  that 
many  a  man  hitherto  voting  for  protection,  because 
he  had  been  taught  to  identify  it  with  nationality, 
began  to  question  and  to  doubt. 

One  section  of  the  United  States  received  little 
of  the  benefit,  and  felt  much  of  the  burden  of  this 
protective  system.  The  South  felt  that  it  was 
being  sacrificed  to  the  rest  of  the  Union,  and  in 
the  South  there  was  one  man,  John  C.  Calhoun, 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  9 

so  clear  of  vision  that  he  saw  in  the  growth  of 
the  ideal  of  nationality  the  loss  of  the  independence 
of  the  states, — the  loss,  as  he  truly  believed,  of 
liberty,  for  liberty  to  him  meant  the  freedom  of 
his  own  state,  South  Carolina,  to  guard  absolutely 
her  own  interests,  to  control  her  own  destiny.  Pro 
tection  and  nationality  were  identified,  then,  both 
by  those  who  supported  and  those  who  opposed  the 
protective  system.  Calhoun  struck  at  protection 
both  in  the  industrial  interests  of  South  Carolina, 
and  to  defend  her  liberty,  and  the  "Tariff  of 
Abominations"  gave  him  his  cause  and  his  oppor 
tunity.  His  answer  was  the  famous  "Exposition" 
of  Nullification,  and  the  action  of  his  state. 

Calhoun's  theory  of  the  relation  of  the  states  and 
the  federal  government  rested  upon  the  assumption 
that  the  constitution  had  been  adopted  by  the 
sovereign  states  and  that  these  states  were  still 
sovereign.  The  constitution  thus  viewed  as  a  com 
pact  between  states,  he  then  asserted  that  each  state, 
if  she  considered  a  law  passed  by  the  federal  Con 
gress  not  warranted  under  the  constitution,  had  a 
right  to  declare  that  law  unconstitutional,  and  to 
nullify  its  operation  within  her  own  boundaries. 
This,  said  Calhoun,  is  not  secession,  though  it  was 
clearly  seen  that  the  "right"  of  nullification  must 
include  ultimately  the  "right"  of  secession.  But 
Calhoun's  main  thesis  was  the  preservation  of  lib 
erty,  and  not  only  the  right,  but  the" ditty," of  the 


10  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

States  to  preserve  their  liberty  against  the  encroach 
ments  of  the  nation.  Liberty  versus  Nationality! 
This  was  the  essence  of  the  nullification  contro 
versy,  and  when  Hayne  of  South  Carolina,  speak 
ing  in  the  United  States  Senate,  outlined  the  theory 
of  nullification,  attacked  the  protected  interests  of 
the  North  and  especially  the  selfishness  of  New 
England,  threatened  that  his  state  would  be  forced 
to  action,  and  pictured  her  as  a  defender  of  liberty, 
he  gave  opportunity  for  passionate  expression  in 
reply  of  the  ideal  of  nationality.  Webster  eagerly 
seized  the  opportunity,  and  in  his  famous  "Reply  to 
Hayne,"  January  26,  1830,  sounded  the  deepest, 
most  inspiring  note  of  all  his  oratory.  It  was  not 
a  great  speech  in  its  logic,  in  its  argument  for  pro 
tection,  in  its  constitutional  theory,  or  even  in  its 
defense  of  the  good  name  of  Massachusetts;  its 
greatness  and  its  appeal,  then  and  now,  rested 
wholly  in  its  assertion  of  the  sentiment  of  nation 
ality,  and  of  a  patriotism  wider  and  higher  than 
mere  state  patriotism. 

"I  shall  not  acknowledge,"  he  said,  "that  the 
honorable  member  goes  before  me  in  regard  for 
whatever  of  distinguished  talent  or  distinguished 
character  South  Carolina  has  produced,  I  claim 
part  of  the  honor,  I  partake  in  the  pride  of  her 
great  names.  I  claim  them  for  my  countrymen, 
one  and  all,  the  Laurenses,  the  Rutledges,  the 
Pinckneys,  the  Sumpters,  the  Marions, — Americans 
all,  whose  fame  is  no  more  to  be  hemmed  in  by 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  11 

State  lines  than  their  talents  and  patriotism  were 
capable  of  being  circumscribed  within  the  same 
narrow  limits." 

But  it  was  in  his  peroration  that  Webster  struck 
the  true  note  of  nationality: 

"I  have  not  allowed  myself,  sir,  to  look  beyond 
the  Union  to  see  what  might  lie  hidden  in  the  dark 
recess  behind.  I  have  not  coolly  weighed  the 
chances  of  preserving  liberty  when  the  bonds  that 
unite  us  together  shall  be  broken  asunder.  I  have 
not  accustomed  myself  to  hang  over  the  precipice 
of  disunion,  to  see  whether,  with  my  short  sight, 
I  can  fathom  the  depth  of  the  abyss  below;  .  .  . 
when  my  eyes  shall  be  turned  to  behold  for  the  last 
time  the  sun  in  heaven,  may  I  not  see  him  shining 
on  the  broken  and  dishonored  fragments  of  a  once 
glorious  Union;  on  States  dissevered,  discordant, 
belligerent;  on  a  land  rent  with  civil  feuds,  or 
drenched,  it  may  be,  in  fraternal  blood!  Let  their 
last  feeble  and  lingering  glance  rather  behold  the 
gorgeous  ensign  of  the  Republic,  now  known  and 
honored  throughout  the  earth,  still  full  high  ad 
vanced,  its  arms  and  trophies  streaming  in  their 
original  lustre,  not  a  stripe  erased  or  polluted,  not 
a  single  star  obscured,  bearing  for  its  motto  no  such 
miserable  interrogatory  as  'What  is  all  this  worth?' 
nor  those  other  words  of  delusion  and  folly, 
'Liberty  first  and  Union  afterward';  but  every 
where,  spread  all  over  in  characters  of  living  light, 
blazing  on  all  its  ample  folds,  as  they  float  over 
the  sea  and  over  the  land,  and  in  every  wind  under 
the  whole  heavens,  that  other  sentiment,  dear  to 


12  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

every  true  American   heart, — Liberty  and   Union, 
now  and  forever,  one  and  inseparable." 

We  must  not,  however,  overestimate  the  imme 
diate  effect  of,  or  the  general  acquiescence  in,  these 
stirring  words.  They  were  heard  with  emotion  by 
some,  with  derision  by  others,  though  all  felt  for 
the  moment  the  spell  of  Webster's  eloquence.  One 
section  of  the  people  applauded  either  with  intense 
conviction,  or  from  pride  in  the  orator,  but  another 
section  saw  in  this  speech  justification  for  its  fear 
of  a  centralized  government.  It  was  not  until  long 
after  Webster's  death  that  North  and  West  were 
wholly  united  in  the  determination  to  maintain  that 
ideal  nationality  which  Webster  had  voiced.  For 
the  moment  indeed  there  was  a  feeling,  as  Benton 
asserted,  that  Webster  had  overstated  a  crisis,  to 
arouse  a  popular  outcry  against  South  Carolina. 
But  South  Carolina  was  not  intimidated.  Finding 
her  threats  of  nullification  unheeded,  she  went  on 
to  action,  and  her  legislature  prohibited  the  collec 
tion  of  federal  customs  dues  within  her  borders. 
It  was  then  that  Andrew  Jackson,  representing 
much  more  truly  than  did  Webster,  the  opinion 
of  the  people  of  the  United  States,  also  expressed 
his  adherence  to  an  ideal  of  nationality  and  his 
determination,  as  President  of  the  United  States, 
to  use  force,  if  necessary,  in  maintaining  that  ideal. 
In  a  proclamation  on  December  19,  1832,  a  com 
prehensive  argument  against  the  theory  of  nullifi- 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  13 

cation,  he  mingled  pleading  with  threat,  but  threat 
^aT^rEs"T)ufderiV  *  He  asserted  the  interests  of  the 
Onion  to  be  superior  to  the  interests  of  the  state, 
and  his  language  appealed,  as  he  intended  it  should 
appeal,  to  the  sentiment  of  nationality,  as  something 
worth  fighting  for. 

"I  consider,  then,"  he  wrote,  "the  power  to 
annul  a  law  of  the  United  States,  assumed  by  one 
State,  incompatible  with  the  existence  of  the  Union, 
contradicted  expressly  by  the  letter  of  the  Consti 
tution,  unauthorized  by  its  spirit,  inconsistent  with 
every  principle  on  which  it  was  founded,  and 
destructive  of  the  great  object  for  which  it  was 
formed." 


"Our  Constitution  does  not  contain  the  absurdity 
of  giving  power  to  make  laws,  and  another  power 
to  resist  them.  .  .  .  The  Constitution  is  still  the 
object  of  our  reverence,  the  bond  of  our  Union, 
our  defence  in  danger,  the  source  of  our  prosperity 
and  peace." 

And  Jackson  notified  South  Carolina  that  he  would 
use  the  forces  of  the  United  States  to  compel 
obedience  to  a  law  of  the  United  States. 

The  threat  was  not  carried  into  execution,  for 
there  was  compromise  on  the  tariff.  Clay,  the 
creator  of  the  "American  system,"  but  always,  first 
and  foremost,  a  disciple  of  nationality,  yielded  his 
protective  principles,  and  introduced  a  measure, 


14  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

which  gave,  as  was  said,  "a  lease  of  nine  years  to 
protection,  and  then  the  end  of  that  doctrine." 
Calhoun,  claiming  this  a  victory  for  South  Caro 
lina,  and  yet  fearful  of  Jackson's  "ferocity"  also, 
accepted  the  compromise,  but  to  the  end  protested 
that  South  Carolina  had  stood  for  principle — not 
profit  merely.  "Disguise  it  as  you  may,"  he  said, 
"the  controversy  is  one  between  power  and  liberty," 
and  in  that,  as  he  defined  the  terms,  he  was  abso 
lutely  right.  But  for  "power,"  Webster  and  Jack 
son,  and  all  the  popular  opinion  that  backed 
Jackson's  threat,  read  "Nationality," — and  thus 
reading,  gave  evidence  of  their  faith  in  an  ideal. 
That  ideal  was  not  yet  an  universal  American  faith, 
but  it  had  found  expression  as  never  before  in  the 
nullification  controversy,  and  every  year  added  to 
its  strength. 

Upon  the  development  of  the  ideal  of  nationality 
for  the  period  between  the  nullification  struggle  and 
the  Civil  War,  I  do  not  dwell,  since  it  was  in  this 
period  that  other  ideals,  notably  those  of  anti- 
slavery,  and -of  manifest  destiny,  topics  to  be  con 
sidered  in  subsequent  lectures,  more  openly  held 
public  attention.  Yet  nationality  was  inextricably 
interwoven  with  both,  and  the  questions  of  perma 
nent  union  and  of  nationality,  as  opposed  by  ideals 
of  state  liberty,  gained  steadily  in  intensity.  During 
this  period  the  South  largely  imposed  its  leadership 
and  control  upon  national  policy,  and  so  long  as  it 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  15 

could  do  this,  was  content  to  let  the  older  issue 
sleep.  With  the  growth  of  Northern  sentiment 
against  slavery,  and  of  Southern  determination  to 
maintain  it,  there  sprang  up  in  the  minds  of  extreme 
anti-slavery  advocates  a  feeling  that  the  Union,  as 
it  stood,  was  a  moral  offense,  that  the  North  should 
withdraw  from  that  Union,  in  sliort,  an  anti- 
nationalistic  sentiment.  This  was  the  expression, 
however,  of  but  a  few  rabid  leaders.  For  a 
moment,  when  Texas  was  annexed,  increasing  the 
power  of  the  slave  states,  and  when  this  was  fol 
lowed  by  the  war  with  Mexico,  even  the  more 
moderate  of  the  anti-slavery  leaders  turned  to  the 
idea  of  separation.  Lowell,  in  the  first  number  of 
his  famous  "Biglow  Papers,"  in  1846,  expresses  it 
in  the  lines : 

"  Ef  I'd  my  way  I  had  ruther 

We  should  go  to  work  an'  part, 
They  take  one  way,  we  take  t'other, 
Guess  it  wouldn't  break  my  heart;" 

But  this  feeling  did  not  last,  and  in  his  later 
"Biglow  Papers,"  he  quickly  changed  the  note, 
using  his  genius  in  a  sharp  arraignment  of  Southern 
ideals,  especially  of  the  asserted  benefits  of  slavery 
to  the  slave,  as  well  as  in  attack  upon  the  injustice 
to  Mexico  of  the  war.  The  personal  note  in  these 
poems  is  one  of  almost  bitter  despair  and  pessimism, 
yet  in  the  end  he  reasserted  in  possibly  his  most 


16  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

famous  lines,  his  faith  in  the  ultimate  triumph  of 
high  principles  and  ideals. 

"  Truth   forever  on  the  scaffold,  Wrong  forever  on  the 

throne ; 
Yet  that  scaffold  sways  the  future,  and  behind  the  dim 

unknown 
Standeth  God  within  the  shadow,  keeping  watch  above 

his  own." 

It  is,  however,  in  the  Civil  War  that  this  ideal 
of  nationality  at  last  asserted  itself  as  the  most 
powerful  influence  in  all  our  history.  Before  that 
fratricidal  struggle  had  actually  begun,  there  were 
many  in  the  North  who,  with  sorrow  for  the  im 
pending  separation,  yet  nevertheless  could  not  tol 
erate  the  thought  of  an  appeal  to  arms  to  preserve 
-  the  Union.  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes,  in  a  "Lament 
for  Sister  Caroline,"  wrote : 

"  Go,  then,  our  rash  sister,  afar  and  aloof, — 
Run  wild  in  the  sunshine  away  from  our  roof ; 
But  when  your  heart  aches  and  your  feet  have  grown 

sore, 
Remember  the  pathway  that  leads  to  our  door !" 

But  even  in  these  lines  Holmes  reveals  his  faith  in 
the  ultimate  victory  of  the  nationalistic  ideal,  and 
when  the  news  came  of  the  attack  on  Fort  Sumter, 
he,  with  all  who  had  doubted,  was  suddenly  trans 
formed  into  an  ardent  patriot,  ready,  if  need  be, 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  17 

to  sacrifice  his  all  for  the  preservation  of  the  Union. 
The  memoirs  and  autobiographies  of  that  day,  one 
and  all,  bear  witness  to  the  marvelous  change  that 
took  place  in  the  sentiments  of  the  North,  when 
the  news  came  from  Charleston.  From  the  time 
of  the  election  of  Lincoln,  in  November,  1860,  to  the 
attack  on  Sumter,  all  had  been  doubt,  confusion, 
uncertainty,  even  regret  for  Lincoln's  victory  at 
the  polls.  Suddenly  this  atmosphere  of  pessimism 
and  dismay  was  cleared  away  by  a  specific  act, 
raising  a  specific  question, — the  question  of  pre 
serving  the  Union, — of  preserving  the  ideal  of 
nationality. 

It  has  been  my  good  fortune  while  at  Yale  to 
secure  from  Professor  Lounsbury  a  statement  of 
his  experiences  in  New  York  City  in  1861,  a  portion 
of  which  I  here  present  as  illustrating  this  sudden 
change  in  sentiment.  Professor  Lounsbury  writes : 

"During  the  months  of  January  and  February, 
as  I  remember,  Booth  was  playing  at  the  old  Winter 
Garden  theater.  One  piece  he  frequently  acted  was 
Richelieu.  That  I  went  to  hear  one  evening  in  the 
early  part  of  February.  In  it  occurs  a  passage  in 
which  Richelieu  is  represented  as  saying: 

'  Take  away  the  sword. 
States  can  be  saved  without  it.' 

As  this  was  uttered  the  audience  went  into  a  trans 
port  of  enthusiasm.  Not  merely  was  there  a  thun- 


18  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

der  of  applause,  but  hats  were  thrown  into  the  air, 
and  individuals  might  be  said  to  have  almost 
screamed  with  excitement  and  enthusiasm.  Every 
one  was  thinking  of  the  differences  that  then  pre 
vailed  and  the  controversies  that  were  going  on, 
and  the  audience  was  proclaiming  its  hostility  to 
any  suggestion  of  war  between  the  two  sections. 
Booth  gave  up  his  engagements  at  the  theater  for 
the  time  being,  but  sometime  in  April,  I  think, 
returned  to  it  to  begin  another.  It  was  during 
this  second  engagement  that  the  attack  on  Fort 
Sumter  was  made.  I  again  went  to  hear  him. 
When  it  came  to  the  passage  previously  welcomed 
with  such  thunderous  applause,  there  was  preserved 
a  dead  silence.  It  passed  without  notice.  But  in 
the  previous  act  there  was  a  conversation  between 
Richelieu  and  his  confidant,  the  Capuchin  Joseph. 
In  that,  words  were  spoken  which  the  first  time  I 
heard  the  play  had  been  received  in  silence.  Riche 
lieu  had  been  represented  as  saying : 

'  First  employ 
All  methods  to  conciliate.' 

"  'Failing  then  ?'  inquires  Joseph.  To  this  Richelieu 
answers  fiercely,  'All  means  to  crush.'  This  passage 
was  now  hailed  with  a  tremendous  uproar.  The 
same  scene  was  enacted  as  had  taken  place  at  the 
previous  representation,  when  the  other  passage  had 
been  spoken,  and  this  time  with  even  a  more 
tempestuous  welcome." 

Another  description  of  this  marvelous  change  in 
Northern  sentiment  is  that  given  by  Carl  Schurz. 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  19 

He  had  just  returned  from  Washington  to  Wis 
consin,  when  the  news  came  of  the  attack  on  Fort 
Sumter,  and  of  the  President's  call  for  volunteers. 
Schurz  hastened  back  to  Washington.  Of  this 
journey  he  writes: 

"When  only  a  short  time  before  I  had  traveled 
from  Washington  westward,  a  dreadful  gloom  of 
expectancy  seemed  to  oppress  the  whole  country. 
Passengers  in  the  railway  cars  talked  together  in 
murmurs,  as  if  afraid  of  the  sound  of  their  own 
voices.  At  the  railroad  stations  stood  men  with 
anxious  faces  waiting  for  the  newspapers,  which 
they  hastily  opened  to  read  the  headings,  and  then 
handed  the  papers  to  another  with  sighs  of  dis 
appointment.  Multitudes  of  people  seemed  to  be 
perplexed  not  only  as  to  what  they  might  expect, 
but  also  as  to  what  they  wished.  And  now  what 
a  change!  Every  railroad  station  filled  with  an 
excited  crowd  hurrahing  for  the  Union  and  Lincoln. 
The  Stars  and  Stripes  fluttering  from  numberless 
staffs. 

"It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  electric  effect 
these  occurrences  produced  upon  the  popular  mind 
in  the  Northern  States.  Until  the  first  gun  was 
fired  upon  Fort  Sumter  many  patriotic  people  still 
entertained  a  lingering  hope  of  saving  the  Union 
without  a  conflict  of  arms.  Now  civil  war  had 
suddenly  become  a  certainty.  The  question  of  what 
might  have  been  utterly  vanished  before  the  ques 
tion  of  what  was  to  be.  A  mighty  shout  arose  that 
the  Republic  must  be  saved  at  any  cost.  It  was  one 
of  those  sublime  moments  of  patriotic  exaltation 
when  everybody  seems  willing  to  do  everything  and 


20  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

to  sacrifice  everything  for  a  common  cause — one  of 
those  ideal  sun-bursts  in  the  history  of  nations."* 

Let  me  cite  still  another  observer,  of  cooler 
temperament,  and  more  philosophic  mind.  I  quote 
the  words  of  Emerson: 

"At  the  darkest  hour  in  the  history  of  the  repub 
lic,  when  it  looked  as  if  the  nation  would  be  dis 
membered,  pulverized  into  its  original  elements,  the 
attack  on  Fort  Sumter  chrystallized  the  North  into 
a  unit,  and  the  hope  of  mankind  was  saved." 

What  was  this  force  that  could  "chrystallize"  a 
people,  could  make  it  a  unit  in  action?  Was  it  a 
fear  of  industrial  benefit  about  to  be  lost?  or  the 
assertion  of  economic  principles?  or  a  belief  in  the 
evils  of  slavery?  or  a  conviction  on  a  theory  of  the 
constitution  ?  It  was  none  of  these.  Rather  a  blow 
struck  at  the  emblem  of  an  ideal  had  suddenly 
revealed  to  a  troubled  people  the  place  that  ideal 
held  in  their  hearts.  The  issue  was  clear  at  last, 
the  long  days  of  anxious  waiting  were  over,  and 
everywhere,  in  all  parties  and  all  factions,  there 
was  felt  the  will  to  preserve  the  Union.  Other 
objects  were  forgotten,  constitutional  argument  was 
ignored,  and  simply  the  sense  of  country,  of 
nationality,  rose  supreme. 

*  These  paragraphs  are  in  inverse  order  in  Schurz. 
Reminiscences  II,  223-224. 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  21 

As  the  war  progressed,  other  ideals  and  objects 
came  to  be  expressed  also,  but  throughout,  the  ideal 
of  nationality  was  the  dominant  one  in  the  North. 
Very  early  in  the  struggle  those  who  had  stood  for 
the  cause  of  anti-slavery  believed  that  the  war 
would  not  end  without  the  extinction  of  that  hated 
system.  Lowell,  who  at  the  opening  of  the  Mexican 
War,  had  doubted  the  permanence  of  the  Union, 
now  wrote,  January  6,  1862,  in  a  new  series  of  the 
"Biglow  Papers,"  his  poem  entitled  "Jonathan  to 
John,"  addressed  indeed  to  Great  Britain,  and 
expressing  America's  resentment  of  British  action 
in  the  Trent  affair,  but  concluding  with  lines 
expressing  his  faith  in  nationality  and  in  ideals 
triumphant. 

"  God  means  to  make  this  land,  John, 

Clear  thru,  from  sea  to  sea, 
Believe  an'  understand,  John, 
The  wuth  o'  bein'  free. 

Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  'I  guess 
God's  price  is  high/  sez  he; 
'But  nothin'  else  than  wut  he  sells 
Wears  long,  an'  thet  J.  B. 
May  larn,  like  you  an'  me !' " 

This  was  a  prediction  of  emancipation.  Julia  Ward 
Howe  tells  us  in  her  recollections,  that,  visiting 
Washington,  she  was  distressed  to  find  the  soldiers 
singing  the  doggerel  of  "John  Brown's  Body,"  and 
wishing  to  provide  words  for  the  music,  more  suit- 


22  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

able  and  more  inspiring,  wrote  the  "Battle  Hymn 
of  the  Republic."  That  poem,  as  Kipling  has  well 
said,  is  a  "terrible"  one.  It  is  filled  with  the  wrath 
of  God,  and  the  joy  of  self-sacrifice,  while  in  the 
line, 

"  As  He  died  to  make  men  holy,  let  us  die  to  make  men 
free," 

the  author  stated  her  conception  of  the  object  of 
the  war. 

Nor  was  Mrs.  Howe  the  only  writer  who  sought 
to  replace  the  words  of  the  soldiers'  song  with  lines 
more  refined  and,  as  it  was  thought,  more  suitable 
to  the  conflict.  Edna  Dean  Proctor  attempted  this 
in  the  poem,  "John  Brown,"  suited  to  the  rhythm 
of  the  song: 

"  John  Brown  died  on  the  scaffold  for  the  slave ; 
Dark  was  the  hour  when  we  dug  his  hallowed  grave ; 
Now  God  avenges  the  life  he  gladly  gave, 
Freedom  reigns  today!" 

All  three  of  these  poems  were  written  before  Lin 
coln's  emancipation  proclamation  had  been  issued, 
but,  in  spite  of  the  hopes  of  their  authors,  the  latter 
two  were  not  sung  by  the  Northern  armies.  The 
"Battle  Hymn  of  the  Republic,"  an  expression  of 
real  genius  and  intense  feeling,  then,  as  now, 
aroused  the  emotions,  but  the  testimony  of  the  sol- 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  23 

diers  themselves  is  that  they  sang  "John  Brown's 
Body"  for  its  marching  swing  and  for  its  sentiment, 
and  it  is  to  be  noted  that,  as  originally  sung,  it 
contained  no  reference  to  the  slave,  except  the 
repetition  of  the  name,  "John  Brown."  In  fact,  the 
verses  emphatically  preferred  by  the  soldier  in  the 
ranks,  were : 

"  They'll  hang  Jeff  Davis  on  a  sour  apple  tree," 
and   , 
"  Now  for  the  Union  let's  give  three  rousing  cheers." 

These  lines  really  expressed  to  the  army  the  ideal 
for  which  it  was  fighting,  and  in  them  were  bitter 
ness  toward  those  who  would  disrupt  the  Union, 
as  well  as  determination  to  save  it. 

It  was  Lincoln,  however,  who  with  that  pith  and 
brevity  in  which  he  had  no  equal,  best  expressed 
the  ideal  of  nationality,  paramount  to  all  other 
ideals  in  this  conflict.  By  the  summer  of  1862  it 
had  become  clear  that  the  dream  of  a  short  war 
was  but  a  dream.  Anti-slavery  sentiment  in  the 
North  gained  strength,  partly  from  conviction, 
partly  from  a  desire  to  punish  the  South,  partly 
from  a  belief  in  emancipation  as  a  necessary  war 
measure.  Horace  Greeley,  the  influential  editor  of 
the  New  York  Tribune,  addressed  an  editorial  to 
Lincoln,  naming  it  "The  Prayer  of  20,000,000 


24  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

People,"  and  urging  the  issue  of  an  edict  of  eman 
cipation.  Lincoln  wrote  and  made  public  a  reply. 
After  waiving  discussion  of  many  misstatements  in 
Greeley's  "Prayer,"  he  said : 

"If  there  be  those  who  would  not  save  the  Union, 
unless  they  could  at  the  same  time  save  slavery,  I 
do  not  agree  with  them. 

"If  there  be  those  who  would  not  save  the  Union, 
unless  they  could  at  the  same  time  destroy  slavery, 
I  do  not  agree  with  them. 

"My  par  amount,  object  is  to  save  the  Union,  and 
not  either  to  save  or  destroy  slavery. 

"If  I  could  save  the  Union  without  freeing  any 
slaves,  I  would  do  it.  And  if  I  could  save  it  by 
freeing  all  the  slaves,  I  would  do  it.  And  if  I  could 
save  it  by  freeing  some,  and  leaving  others  alone, 
I  would  also  do  that. 

"What  I  do  about  slavery  and  the  colored  race, 
I  do  because  I  believe  it  helps  to  save  the  Union, 
and  what  I  forbear,  I  forbear,  because  I  do  not 
believe  it  would  help  save  the  Union." 

At  the  moment  when  Lincoln  wrote  these  words, 
so  truly  representative  of  the  will  of  the  people, 
there  was  lying  in  his  desk  the  draft  of  the  Emanci 
pation  Proclamation,  to  be  issued  if,  in  the  exigen 
cies  of  war,  it  should  seem  wise  to  issue  it,  as  a 
war  measure.  The  liberty  of  the  slaves  appealed 
to  the  "great  emancipator,"  but  far  higher  was  the 
appeal  of  nationality. 

The  ideal  of  unity,  of  nationality,  was  not  con- 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  25 

fined  to  the  North.  The  Civil  War  has  been 
depicted  as  a  contest  between  the  ideals  of  national 
unity  and  state  liberty,  and  in  its  inception  and 
theoretical  basis  this  is  no  doubt  true.  Lee's  per 
sonal  struggle,  his  self-examination,  as  to  where 
duty  lay,  was  typical  of  the  reasoned,  not  merely 
the  emotional  forces,  that  led  men  to  stand  by  their 
states.  But  the  conflict  had  barely  begun  when, 
by  the  requirements  of  war,  state  liberty,  even  in 
the  Confederacy,  had  to  yield  to  national  unity,  and* 
this  ideal  of  a  Southern  unity  found  expression  in, 
the  literature  of  the  South.  In  Albert  Pike's  poem, 
"Dixie,"  there  is  no  note  of  the  liberty  of  the  state. 
The  very  first  verse  is  a  call  to  country : 

"  Southrons,  hear  your  country  call  you ! 
Up,  lest  worse  than  death  befall  you! 

To  arms !    To  arms !    To  arms,  in  Dixie ! 
Lo !  all  the  beacon-fires  are  lighted, — 
Let  all  hearts  be  now  united ! 
To  arms  !    To  arms  !    To  arms  !  in  Dixie  ! 

Advance  the  flag  of  Dixie ! 
For  Dixie's  land  we  take  our  stand, 
And  live  and  die  for  Dixie!" 

and  faith  in  divine  guidance  was  not  wanting  either, 
as  in  the  verse : 

"  Swear  upon  your  country's  altar 
Never  to  submit  or  falter, 
Till  the  spoilers  are  defeated, 
Till  the  Lord's  work  is  completed!" 


26  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

It  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  in  the  earlier  period 
of  the  war,  while  at  the  North  there  existed,  and 
was  much  expression  of,  intense  bitterness,  and  soon 
of  a  desire  to  punish  the  South  for  forcing  the  con 
flict,  in  the  South,  neither  statesman  nor  poet  gave 
voice  to  sentiments  of  revenge.  This  may  have 
been  due  to  a  conviction  of  victory  bred  in  the 
South,  or  possibly  to  an  underlying  sentiment  of 
regret  that  she  had  been  compelled  to  strike  a  blow 
at  the  "once  glorious  Union."  But  as  the  war 
dragged  on,  and  the  issue  became  more  doubtful 
for  the  independence  of  a  Southern  nation, — when 
indeed  the  South  began  to  suffer,  then  came  the 
expression  of  a  desire  to  inflict  suffering.  Henry 
Timrod,  in  the  "Cotton  Boll,"  a  dreamy  contem 
plation  of  the  virtues  of  cotton  production,  and  its 
many  blessings,  suddenly  turns,  toward  the  close  of 
his  poem,  to  a  fervent  appeal  for  divine  aid  in 
avenging  the  South  as  a  nation: 

"  Oh,  help  us,  Lord !  to  roll  the  crimson  flood 
Back  on  its  course,  and,  while  our  banners  wing 
Northward,  strike  with  us !  till  the  Goth  shall  cling 
To  his  own  blasted  altar-stones,  and  crave 
Mercy ;  and  we  shall  grant  it,  and  dictate 
The  lenient  future  of  his  fate 

There,  where  some  rolling  ships  and  crumbling  quays 
Shall  one  day  mark  the  Port  which  ruled  the  Western 
seas." 

The  Civil  War  began  indeed,  as  Calhoun  had 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  27 

feared,  in  a  conflict  between  "power  and  liberty," 
nationality  and  states'  rights.  The  result  of  the  war 
settled  for  all  time  that  question.  The  ideal  of" 
nationality  triumphed  because  it  had  back  of  it  a 
superior  material  force, — an  argument  of  the  mate 
rialistic  historian, — but  that  force  could  never  have 
been  exerted  had  it  not  been  for  a  united  idealiza- 
tiorTof  "nationality.  In  the  later  ready  acceptance 
of  that  same  ideal  by  the  South,  is  to  be  read  in 
the  South  itself,  even  throughout  the  struggle, 
perhaps  even  renewed  by  the  struggle,  a  subcon 
scious  acceptance  of  the  binding  power  of  the  ideal 
of  nationality.  In  times  of  national  danger,  genius 
in  literary  expression  finds  inspiration  in  patriotism. 
The  popular  approval  of  such  expressions  is  one 
evidence,  and  an  important  one,  of  a  nation's  faith. 
During  the  Civil  War  Edward  Everett  Hale  wrote 
that  wonderful  story,  "The  Man  Without  a  Coun 
try,"  and  it  at  once  held  the  hearts  of  the  North 
as  did  no  other  writing  of  the  time.  But  more 
recently,  in  the  Spanish-American  War,  and  since, 
that  story  has  been  reprinted,  especially  in  the 
South,  and  read  again  and  again,  as  if  it  were 
new,  as  indeed  it  always  will  be  new  to  American 
hearts.  It  is  simply  a  confession  of  faith  in  the 
ideal  of  nationality.  In  concluding  this  lecture, 
permit  me  then  to  recall  the  narrative  and  quote 
the  closing  paragraph. 

The  hero  of  the  story  is  Philip  Nolan,  a  young 


28  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

army  officer  stationed  in  the  West  at  the  beginning 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  who  falls  a  victim  to  the 
magnetism  of  Aaron  Burr,  joins  the  supposed  plan 
for  a  new  western  empire,  and  forgets  his  duty  and 
his  loyalty  to  his  native  land.  While  being  tried 
for  treason  in  1807  Nolan,  angered  by  some  ques 
tion  of  the  presiding  judge,  "cried  out  in  a  fit  of 
frenzy,  'Damn  the  United  States!  I  wish  I  may 
never  hear  of  the  United  States  again/  '  The  old 
judge  was  shocked  beyond  expression,  and  when 
Nolan  was  convicted,  condemned  him  to  the  literal 
execution  of  his  own  wish,  "never  to  hear  the  name 
of  the  United  States  again."  He  was  placed  as  a 
perpetual  prisoner  on  board  a  United  States  naval 
vessel,  officers  and  crew  were  instructed  to  treat 
him  kindly,  but  were  never  to  mention  to  him,  or 
to  permit  him  information  about,  the  United  States, 
and  as  he  was  transferred  from  vessel  to  vessel, 
these  same  orders  were  enforced,  though  Nolan, 
at  first  defiant,  soon  sought,  by  entreaty,  stratagem, 
or  bribes,  to  be  told  something  of  his  country,  but 
all  in  vain.  Thus  situated,  he  went  through  the 
war  of  1812,  cruised  many  times  about  the  globe 
but  was  never  permitted  to  enter  an  American 
port,  passed  through  the  Mexican  War,  found  new 
faces  always,  grew  old,  his  story  almost  forgotten, 
while  naval  commanders,  in  the  cradle  when  he  was 
condemned,  continued  to  carry  out  the  instructions 
of  1807.  At  last,  during  the  Civil  War,  on  May  11, 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  29 

1863,  dying,  he  excited  the  compassion  of  Captain 
Danforth,  who  commanded  the  vessel  on  which 
Nolan  then  was,  and  Danforth  visited  Nolan  in  his 
stateroom,  yielded  to  his  entreaties  and  poured  into 
his  eager  ears  the  story  of  his  country's  history, — 
of  the  war  of  1812,  of  the  acquisition  of  Florida, 
of  Texas  and  California,  and  of  Oregon.  Danforth 
told  him  of  industries,  of  railroads,  and  of  cities; 
of  books,  and  colleges,  of  West  Point  and  the 
Naval  School.  Together  the  two  drew  in,  upon  a 
map  that  Nolan  had  long  since  constructed  in  vague 
and  uncertain  outline,  seventeen  new  states  added  to 
the  Union  since  Nolan  had  been  condemned  never 
again  to  hear  of  his  country. 

"And,"  says  Danforth,  "he  drank  it  in,  and 
enjoyed  it  as  I  cannot  tell  you.  He  grew  more  and 
more  silent,  yet  I  never  thought  he  was  tired  or 
faint.  I  gave  him  a  glass  of  water,  but  he  just  wet 
his  lips,  and  told  me  not  to  go  away.  Then  he 
asked  me  to  bring  the  Presbyterian  'Book  of  Public 
Prayer,'  which  lay  there,  and  said  with  a  smile, 
that  it  would  open  at  the  right  place, — and  so  it 
did.  There  was  his  double  red  mark  down  the 
page;  and  I  knelt  down  and  read,  and  he  repeated 
with  me:  'For  ourselves  and  our  country,  O  gra 
cious  God,  we  thank  thee  that  notwithstanding  our 
manifold  transgressions  of  thy  holy  laws,  thou  hast 
continued  to  us  thy  marvelous  kindness,' — and  so 
to  the  end  of  that  thanksgiving.  Then  he  turned 
to  the  end  of  the  same  book,  and  I  read  the  words 
more  familiar  to  me:  'Most  heartily  we  beseech 


30  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

thee  with  thy  favor  to  behold  and  bless  thy  servant 
the  President  of  the  United  States,  and  all  others 
in  authority/ — and  the  rest  of  the  Episcopal  collect 
'Danforth,'  said  he,  'I  have  repeated  those  prayers 
night  and  morning,  it  is  now  fifty-five  years/  And 
then  he  said  he  would  go  to  sleep.  .  .  .  And  I  went 
away." 


II 

ANTI-SLAVERY— A  CRUSADE 


II 

ANTI-SLAVERY— A  CRUSADE 

It  is  now  generally  conceded  that  while  anti- 
slavery  attracted  attention  and  discussion  previous 
to  1860,  it  had  no  such  hold  on  the  people  as  to 
preclude  other  interests,  and  that  its  influence  in 
bringing  on  the  war  has  been  overestimated.  Imme 
diately  after  the  Civil  War,  indeed,  popular  retro 
spect  pictured  the  North  as  long  in  the  grip  of  anti- 
slavery  sentiment,  and  men  were  prone  to  think  of 
themselves  as  animated  in  1850  by  the  same  ideals 
they  later  held  in  1865.  Modern  historians  have 
corrected  this  error,  but  today  the  correction  has 
itself  assumed  the  proportions  of  an  error.  Instead 
of  a  just  estimate  of  the  real  influence  of  the  anti- 
slavery  movement,  we  have,  now  a  tendency  to  deny 
both  its  actual  extent,  and  its  force  as  an  ideal. 
Recently,  at  the  American  Historical  Association 
in  Boston,  1912,  one  of  the  speakers  affirmed  his 
belief  that  careful  investigation  of  church  history 
between  1840  and  1860  would  show  that  the  general 
sentiment  of  church  members  and  church  organi 
zations  in  the  North  was  definitely  inimical  to  the 
anti-slavery  movement,  thus  denying  its  force  as 
an  ideal  in  religious  bodies.  An  able  student  of 


34  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

history  in  its  geographic  conditions  has  written  as 
follows : 

^  "The  morale  of  the  institution  [slavery]  like  the 
right  of  secession,  was  long  a  mooted  question,  until 
New  England,  having  discovered  the  economic  un- 
fitness  of  slave  industry  to  her  boulder-strewn  soil, 
took  the  lead  in  the  crusade  against  it." 

Here  is  no  denial  that  anti-slavery  was  an  ideal  and 
a  force,  but  the  inception  of  that  ideal  is  found  in 
geographic  environment.  An  economic  historian, 
in  a  chapter  entitled  "Why  the  Civil  War  came," 
goes  much  farther  than  most  writers.  He  states 
that  the  causes  of  the  war  were  not  "found  either 
in  the  wickedness  of  chattel  slavery,  nor  in  the 
growing  moral  consciousness  of  the  North.  ...  It 
is  certain  that  the  general  moral  conscience  of  the 
North  had  seldom  been  lower  than  in  the  years 
when  competitive  capitalism  [1840  to  1860]  was 
gaining  the  mastery  in  American  industrial  life." 

These  citations  are  sufficient  to  indicate  the  pres 
ent  tendency  to  minimize  in  our  history  the  force 
of  the  anti-slavery  ideal,  or  to  deny  its  spiritual 
vigor.  I  believe  these  interpretations,  or  explana 
tions,  to  be  true  only  in  part,  that  these  were  con 
tributing  rather  than  conclusive  causes,  and  that 
back  of  the  sordid,  tangible  explanation  was  an 
inspiring  sentiment  that  touched  men's  hearts  and 
fired  imagination.  In  support  of  my  contention,  I 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  35 

wish  to  present  to  you,  as  before,  a  few  quotations 
illustrative  of  the  origin,  growth,  and  influence  of 
the  anti-slavery  ideal. 

Historically  considered,  I  believe  that  opposition 
to  slavery  among  Christian  nations  haoMts  origin 
in  the  teachings  of  Christ,  and  that  when  men's 
minds  turned  from  theological  dogma  to  consider 
life  and  service,  there  emerged  an  antagonism  to 
slavery.  In  America,  it  was  in  fact  exactly  in 
those  religious  communities  where  the  brotherhood 
of  man  was  most  insisted  on  that  anti-slavery  sen 
timent  first  appeared.  This  was  among  the  Quakers 
and  in  pre-revolutionary  times.  African  slavery 
existed' in  all  the  American  colonies,  and  it  can  not 
be  said  that  in  colonial  times  there  was  any  general 
feeling  against  it.  But  when  the  doctrines  of  the- 
Declaration  of  Independence,  as  understood  by  the 
majority  of  men,  came  to  reinforce  religious  hos 
tility,  there  immediately  sprang  up  a  number  of 
definitely  organized  anti-slavery  societies.  By  1827 
slavery  had  been  abolished  in  all  the  Northern 
states,  while  societies  for  the  further  expansion  of 
the  movement  had  been  organized  in  every  state 
in  the  Union,  except  in  the  extreme  South,  in 
Indiana,  and  in  New  England. 

This  earlier  movement  was  largely  moral  and 
religious.  Its  chief  center  of  activity  and  its  chief 
support  were  in  the  so-called  border  states,  espe 
cially  in  Kentucky  and  in  Virginia,  and  here  the 


36  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

conviction  existed  that  slavery  was  a  moral  evil. 
Previous  to  1830  the  great  advocate  of  emancipa 
tion  was  a  Quaker,  Benjamin  Lundy,  who  traveled 
freely  though  the  South,  and  was  kindly  received. 
But  between  1827  and  1830  the  movement  .grad-. 
.ually  lost  its  hold  upon  the  people.  This  rapid 
decay  of  a  campaign  of  ideals,  has  always  excited 
the  wonder  of  the  historian,  and  various  reasons 
have  been  asserted  for  it, — reasons  which  I  may 
not  pause  to  examine,  but  it  is  worthy  of  notice 
that  in  the  whole  civilized  world  the  period  of  the 
late  twenties  was  one  of  apathy  to  ideals.  In 
Europe  this  was  manifested  in  political  reaction 
against  the  ideals  of  the  French  Revolution, — in 
the  loss  of  younger  enthusiasms, — a  moral  stagna 
tion  not  recovered  from  till  the  revolutions  of  1830, 
which  had  their  origin  in  a  remembrance  of  the 
things  that  were  good  in  the  revolution  of  1789. 
In  America  the  same  wave,  or  germ,  call  it  what 
you  will,  of  intellectual  and  spiritual  unrest,  ex 
pressed  itself  in  various  forms,  one  of  which  was 
the  new  abolition  movement  initiated  by  William 
Lloyd  Garrison. 

Garrisonian  abolition  may  be  traced  in  part  to 
the  older  movement,  but  it  also  differed  materially 
from  it.  While  the  earlier  agitation  urged  eman 
cipation  for  slaves,  based  upon  religious  conviction, 
•  the  new  gospel  demanded  freedom  for  slaves  upon 
all  grounds,  moral,  social,  and  political.  In  place 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  37 

qf  an  ethical  question  came  a  positive  command. 
Denunciation  was  substituted  for  moral  suasion. 
"Thou  shalt  not"  displaced  the  older  "it  is  better 
not."  The  new  gospel  proclaimed  that  the  nation, 
if  it  would  save  its  soul,  must  not  hold  slaves.  Gar 
rison  placarded  .slavery  as  a  damnable  wrong,  and 
slave  owners  as  doomed  to  damnation,  unless  they 
forswore  slavery,  while  the  Northerner  was  first 
appealed  to  to  join  in  placing  this  stigma  upon 
slavery,  and  refusing,  was  condemned  as  particeps 
criminis.  Not  all  anti-slavery  leaders  held  such 
extreme  views,  yet  from  the  first  the  movement 
assumed  the  proportions  of  a  moral  crusade,  and 
its  converts  were  Impelled  by  an  ideal.  Let  us 
examine  its  expressions,  and  estimate  their  actual 
influence. 

Convinced  that  Lundy's  milder  methods  had  been 
ineffective  and  useless,  Garrison  in  1830  came  to. 
Boston  and  established  the  Liberator.  In  the  first 
issue  of  that  paper  he  stated  his  purpose : 

"I  shall  strenuously  contend  for  the  immediate 
enfranchisement  of  our  slave  population.  ...  I  am 
aware  that  many  object  to  the  severity  of  my  lan 
guage  ;  but  is  there  not  cause  for  severity  ?  I  will 
be  as  harsh  as  truth,  a'nd  as  uncompromising  as 
justice.  On  this  subject,  I  do  not  wish  to  think, 
or  speak,  or  write,  with  moderation.  I  am  in 
earnest — I  will  not  equivocate — I  will  not  retreat 
a  single  inch — and  I  will  be  heard." 


38  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

The  Liberator  became,  then,  the  organ  of  the 
cause,  and  its  editor  the  chief  apostle.  Garrison 
was  a  trenchant  writer  and  a  vigorous  fighter.  His 
demand,  throughout  his  entire  career,  was  for 
immediate  and  absolute  emancipation,  ignoring  all 
practical  difficulties,  depicting  and  exaggerating  the 
horrors  of  slavery,  and  seeking  to  create  a  universal 
will  in  the  free  states  for  a  national  casting  off  of 
slavery  as  a  national  sin.  He  recognized  no  dis 
tinction  in  the  owners  of  slaves,  lashing  all  alike  in 
virulent  language.  He  asserted  that  the  need  of 
the  hour  was  to  convert  the  North,  to  arouse  it  and 
create  a  powerful  sentiment  so  strong  that  force, 
presumably  political,  would  be  used  to  compel  the 
South  to  free  its  slaves. 

The  immediate  response  to  Garrison's  appeal 
gave  evidence  of  the  existence  of  an  intense  feeling, 
hitherto  unsuspected,  in  the  North.  Anti-slavery 
societies  sprang  rapidly  into  existence.  By  1832 
there  were  so  many  societies  in  New  England  that 
a  federation  was  established.  In  1833  the  "Ameri 
can  Society"  was  organized  in  Philadelphia  and  the 
spread  of  local  societies  throughout  the  North  was 
extremely  rapid.  In  1835  there  were  two  hundred 
of  them,  in  1836  five  hundred,  and  by  1840  two 
thousand,  nearly  all  well  financed  and  prosperous, 
with  a  total  membership  of  175,000.  Radical  and 
denunciatory,  the  movement  at  first  repelled  rather 
than  attracted  men  of  power  and  reputation.  Later 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  39 

the  appeal  overshadowed  the  manner  and  method, 
and  such  men  as  Whittier  and  Wendell  Phillips 
came  to  its  aid.  Whittier's  service  as  speaker  and 
writer  was  valuable,  but  his  most  effective  weapon 
was  found  in  his  poems.  Wendell  Phillips  as  an 
orator  gifted  in  invective,  never  checked  by  facts, 
wholly  intolerant,  made  use  of  the  public  platform, 
as  Garrison  used  the  press.  Later  came  Theodore 
Parker  in  the  pulpit,  James  Russell  Lowell  in  prose 
and  poetry,  Palfrey  in  history.  In  the  West  there 
was  immediate  evidence  of  the  moral  appeal  of 
anti-slavery  to  the  youth  of  the  nation.  At  Lane 
Theological  Seminary,  in  Cincinnati,  under  the 
presidency  of  Lyman  Beecher,  a  student  debate  on 
the  question  of  slavery  resulted  in  an  expression 
of  abolition  sentiment.  The  Seminary  drew  from 
both  banks  of  the  Ohio,  and  the  trustees,  fearing  to* 
lose  Southern  students,  prohibited  public  discussions 
of  slavery.  Nearly  four  fifths  of  the  students 
withdrew  to  Oberlin  College.  Thus  was  created 
the  Oberlin  anti-slavery  movement,  furnishing  a 
center  for  the  agitation  in  the  West.  In  the  North 
as  a  whole  there  were  three  general  groups.  New 
England  gave  to  the  cause  writers  and  orators, 
working  on  purely  theoretical  lines.  The  Middle 
States  financed  the  movement,  which  drew  support 
from  the  resources  of  wealthy  philanthropists. 
The  West  attempted  more  practical  operations, 
offering  education  to  free  negroes,  and  beginning 


40  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

that  systematized  aid  to  escaping  slaves  which  later 
was  known  as  the  Underground  Railroad.  In  all 
sections  the  membership  of  the  societies  was  largely 
composed  of  young  men. 

By  1835  anti-slavery  had  become  a  well-organized, 
definite  propaganda,  and  from  being  derided  "Had 
come  to  be  feared  and  hated.  The  conservative 
and  peace-seeking  elements  in  the  North,  at  first 
indifferent,  were  roused  to  forcible  opposition. 
Garrison  himself  made  the  opening,  for,  driven  by 
opposition  to  defend  his  crusade  in  all  its  aspects, 
and  disappointed  that  he  failed  to  arouse  co 
operation  in  the  churches,  he  charged  his  impotence 
upon  the  church  and  the  patriotic  sense  of  the 
people.  Such  attitude  could  only  be  abhorrent  to 
the  great  masses,  and  particularly  so  to  two  great 
ideal  forces  in  America, — religion  and  patriotism. 
Smarting  under  church  opposition,  he  renounced 
attendance  in  the  Baptist  church,  proclaimed  his 
disbelief  in  the  inspiration  of  the  Bible,  denied  the 
authority  of  tradition  and  inspiration,  and  ended 
by  founding  all  his  convictions  on  the  philosophical 
basis  of  "natural  right"  and  "reason."  Inevitably 
the  cry  of  infidelity  was  raised  against  anti-slavery. 
In  addition  he  unhesitatingly  advocated  Northern 
secession  as  the  only  measure  left  when  the  cause 
was  politically  ignored.  To  the  horror  of  sincere 
patriots  he  called  the  constitution  "a  covenant  with 
death  and  an  agreement  with  hell."  Though  this 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  41 

was  but  a  temporary  attitude,  it  alarmed  his  adhe 
rents  and  gave  to  conservatism  its  opportunity. 
For  a  moment  even  Whittier  doubted,  but  in  the 
end  he  declared  for  the  utmost  free  expression  of 
abolition  doctrines,  writing 

"If  we  have  whispered  truth,  whisper  no  longer, 
Speak  as  the  trumpet  does, — sterner  and  stronger." 

the  attack  on  Garrisonian  abolition  came  from 
every  element  of  society.  Evidence  of  church 
opposition  is  found  in  the  New  England  Pastoral 
letter  of  1837  to  the  Congregational  churches,  con 
demning  discussion  of  abolition  in  the  pulpit,  as 
certain  to  disrupt  the  church.  A  noted  preacher, 
Prof.  Moses  Stuart  of  Andover  Theological  Semi 
nary,  found  justification  for  slavery  in  the  New 
Testament.  In  1836  the  Methodist  Conference  of 
New  York  State  censured  two  of  its  members  for 
favoring  abolition.  Such  clerical  intolerance  but 
aroused  the  anti-slavery  leaders  to  greater  vigor. 
In  a  poem  entitled  "Clerical  Oppressors,"  Whittier 
wrote : 

"  Just  God !  and  these  are  they 
Who  minister  at  thine  altar,  God  of  Right ! 
Men  who  their  hands  with  prayer  and  blessing  lay 
On  Israel's  Ark  of  light!" 

******* 

"  Feed  fat,  ye  locusts,  feed ! 
And,  in  your  tasseled  pulpits,  thank  the  Lord 


42  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

That,  from  the  toiling  bondsman's  utter  need, 
Ye  pile  your  own  full  board. 

"  How  long,  O  Lord !  how  long 
Shall  such  a  priesthood  barter  truth  away, 
And  in  Thy  name,  for  robbery  and  wrong 
At  Thy  own  altars  pray?" 

In  institutions  of  learning  also  the  controversy 
raged,  always  with  the  few  on  the  side  of  anti- 
slavery,  and  the  many  against  it.  Prof.  Charles 
Pollen  was  dropped  from  the  Harvard  faculty  as 
too  open  in  his  advocacy  of  the  cause.  In  New 
Haven  a  plan  to  establish  a  manual  training  school 
for  negroes  was  opposed  by  the  town  authorities, 
for  fear  it  would  endanger  the  popularity  of  Yale 
College.  In  1832  Miss  Crandall  admitted  a  negress 
to  her  girls'  school  at  Canterbury,  Connecticut, 
whereupon  the  white  scholars  left.  Miss  Crandall 
then  advertised  a  colored  school.  The  town 
objected  and  arrested  her  pupils  as  vagrants.  They 
were  bailed  out  and  returned  to  school.  The  legis 
lature  passed  an  act  prohibiting  the  school.  Miss 
Crandall  defied  the  law,  was  arrested,  and  later 
freed  by  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  state.  Then 
there  followed  a  combined  boycott  by  the  shop 
keepers,  physicians,  and  ministers  of  the  surround 
ing  community,  and  the  school  was  forced  to  close. 
At  Phillips  Andover  Academy  a  situation  developed 
of  unusual  interest,  though,  so  far  as  I  am  aware, 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  43 

it  has  attracted  little  attention  from  the  historians 
of  anti-slavery.  My  knowledge  of  it  comes  from 
the  unpublished  diaries  and  letters  of  one  who  took 
part  in  it.  Garrison,  thinking  to  make  use  of  Eng 
lish  enthusiasm  for  the  cause,  had  invited  to 
America  a  noted  speaker,  George  Thompson.  Let 
an  old  man  of  eighty-six  tell  in  his  own  language 
the  effect  of  Thompson's  lectures  upon  a  boy  of 
sixteen  in  Phillips  Academy. 

"In  the  summer  of  1835  Thompson  came  to 
Andover  and  gave  eleven  lectures  in  a  small  Metho 
dist  church,  the  only  church  that  could  be  obtained 
for  him,  yet  it  was  large  enough  for  those  who 
would  go  to  hear  such  doctrine.  There  was  with  him 
one  of  our  ministers  by  the  name  of  Phelps,  who 
afterwards  wrote  a  book  called  Thelps  on  Slavery/ 
They  had  with  them  a  young  darkey  who  had  run 
away  from  his  master  and  whom,  after  they  had 
had  their  say,  they  trotted  out  to  tell  a  little  about 
his  slave  life  and  how  he  had  escaped  from  it, 
which  he  did  with  a  glib  tongue  and  forceful  effect. 
I,  with  many  of  the  students  not  only  of  the  Acad 
emy  but  a  number  of  those  in  the  Theological 
Seminary,  attended  the  lectures.  For  the  proposi 
tion  to  form  an  anti-slavery  society  I  had  a  ready 
assent,  not  simply  because  of  the  influence  of  the 
lectures  but  because  from  earlier  influences  I  was 
already  an  abolitionist.  So  it  was  that  by  a  previous 
training  set  on  fire  by  the  eloquence  of  Thompson 
in  his  Andover  lectures,  for  he  was  an  eloquent 
man,  I  was  ready  to  join  an  anti-slavery  society. 


44  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

I  was  one  of  fifty  or  sixty  others  that  were  ready 
for  the  same.  The  teachers  and  trustees  felt  that 
the  formation  of  such  a  society  would  be  a  dis 
grace  and  an  injury  to  the  popularity  of  the  school 
and  of  course  were  opposed  to  it.  Still  claiming, 
in  spite  of  their  opposition,  what  seemed  to  us  a 
right  and  duty  for  us  to  do,  we  were  counted  as 
rebels  and  begun  to  be  treated  as  such.  The  first 
step  was  to  deprive  us  of  the  privilege  of  recitation. 
One  of  our  number  drew  up  a  statement  of  what 
we  conceived  to  be  our  principles,  rights,  etc.,  to 
be  presented  to  the  public.  We  went  out  into  the 
woods  (or  the  timber  as  Westerners  have  it)  to 
hear  the  address  and  consider.  We  endorsed  the 
statement  and  solemnly  pledged  to  stand  together 
in  contending  for  our  rights  and  principles.  Soon 
at  morning  prayers  came  this  announcement  to  us 
all :  Those  of  age  must  return  to  their  studies  within 
three  days  as  loyal  students  or  be  expelled  from  the 
institution.  All  minors  are  to  return  at  once.  You 
in  a  sense  are  by  your  parents  committed  to  our 
charge  and  we  enjoin  upon  you  what  in  our  judg 
ment  they  would  have  you  do.'  This  in  effect. 
Before  leaving  the  room  I  went  directly  to  the 
principal  (Mr.  Osgood)  remonstrating.  'I  can't/ 
he  said,  'I  can't  do  otherwise.  I  am  bound  as  in 
chains.'  'But,'  I  said,  'I  do  not  know  what  my 
parents  would  have  me  do,  nor  do  you.  May  I 
have  leave  to  go  and  see  ?'  'Yes,'  said  he,  'go  home 
for  three  days.  You  will  cool  off  and  be  prepared 
to  come  back.'  I  went  home.  When  evening  came, 
I  told  my  father  the  whole  story,  at  the  close  saying, 
'Now,  father,  I  will  go  back  or  not,  just  as  you  say.' 
He  said  nothing,  except,  'Well,  you  may  go  to  bed 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  45 

now.'  The  next  morning  he  said  nothing  till  about 
ten  o'clock  when  the  sun  had  dried  up  the  dew ;  he 
simply  said,  'Well,  my  son,  you  may  take  the  fork 
and  open  the  haycocks  today/  That  was  all  he 
said,  or  ever  said,  about  it.  I  went  to  work  and 
worked  with  a  will,  glad  that  I  was  free  from 
Phillips  Academy,  and  that  I  had  brought  all  my 
books  with  me,  for  I  knew  well  enough  what  Father 
meant." 

Of  the  boys  who  took  part  in  this  "Andover 
Rebellion,"  and  who  later  attended  college,  the 
majority  went  to  Dartmouth,  having  been  dis 
couraged  from  making  application  to  other  colleges 
of  New  England.  The  incident  is  a  striking  illus 
tration  of  the  appeal  to  youth  made  by  the  ideals 
of  anti-slavery,  and  in  this  case  is  all  the  more 
remarkable  in  that  the  students  of  the  Theological 
Seminary  did  not  approve  the  cause,  and  even  tried 
to  break  up  Thompson's  meetings.  The  bringing  of 
Thompson  to  America  was  indeed  a  blunder.  The 
American  people  were  peculiarly  sensitive  to 
"English  interference,"  and  their  resentment  was 
food  for  Garrison's  opponents.  There  followed 
the  Boston  riot  of  October  21,  1835,  from  which 
Thompson  fled,  and  in  which  Garrison  was  led 
through  the  streets  with  a  halter  about  his  neck. 
The  handbill,  which  was  distributed  in  the  city  and 
which  led  to  the  riot,  reveals  both  the  intensity  of 
feeling,  and  its  causes. 


46  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

THOMPSON 
The  Abolitionist. 

That  infamous  foreign  scoundrel  Thompson 
will  hold  forth  this  afternoon,  at  the  Liberator 
Office,  No.  48  Washington  Street.  The  present  is 
a  fair  opportunity  for  the  friends  of  the  Union,  to 
smoke  Thompson  out!  It  will  be  a  contest  between 
the  Abolitionists  and  the  friends  of  the  Union.  A 
purse  of  $100  has  been  raised  by  a  number  of 
patriotic  citizens  to  reward  the  individual  who  shall 
first  lay  violent  hands  on  Thompson,  so  that  he  may 
be  brought  to  the  tar  kettle  before  dark.  Friends 
of  the  Union  be  vigilant ! 

Boston,  Wednesday,  12  o'clock. 

The  year  1836  marks  the  end  of  this  first 
"stormy"  period  of  the  anti-slavery  crusade. 
Thereafter  Garrison  and  his  friends  abandoned 
violent  measures  and  methods.  Abuse  gave  place 
to  moderation  and  the  following  was  increased. 
Yet  the  accession  of  men  of  note  was  slow. 
Emerson,  a  real  friend  of  anti-slavery,  cringed 
before  the  intemperate  language  of  some  of  its 
leaders.  "Let  us,"  he  wrote,  "withhold  every 
reproachful,  and,  if  we  can,  every  indignant 
remark.  In  this  cause,  we  must  renounce  our 
temper,  and  the  risings  of  pride."  He  would,  he 
said,  "convince"  the  slave  owner  that  it  was 
"cheaper  to  pay  wages  than  to  own  slaves."  It 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  47 

is  customarily  stated  that  the  intelligent  conser 
vative  opposition  to  Garrison  in  New  England 
rested  on  respect  for  property,  respect  for  the 
constitution  as  a  bargain  made,  and  fear  of  black 
atrocities  such  as  had  taken  place  in  San  Domingo. 
This  classification  omits  the  leading  commercial 
interest  vested  in  the  cotton  mills,  and  voiced  in 
State  Street.  The  whole  conservative  traditionjof 
wealth,  intelligence,  blood,  and  political  control 
was  against  anti-slavery.  Its  leaders  were  negli 
gible,  but  the  ideal  was  greater  than  the  leaders, 
and  in  the  next  two  decades  many  a  natural  con 
servative  was  drawn,  almost  in  spite  of  himself, 
into  the  cause  of  anti-slavery.  And  there  was  yet 
another  element  of  strength  in  the  movement.  At 
first  opposed  by  patriotic  sentiment  that  feared  its 
influence  in  severing  the  nation,  it  later  found  sup 
port  in  the  North  fjrom  the  very  ideal  of  nation 
ality, — an  ideal  that  clung  not  merely  to  union, 
but  to  a  union  devoted  to  moral  principles.  Had 
political  conceptions  remained  fixed  as  before  1815, 
there  would  have  been  no  Northern  outcry  against 
slavery  in  the  old  states  of  the  South,  and  little 
against  its  expansion  to  the  West.  The  mere 
growth  of  anti-slavery  in  its  later  aspect  is  an 
evidence  of  the  spread  of  the  sentiment  of 
nationality. 

It  is  in  the  South,  however,  that  we  may  trace 
the  more  positive  effects  of  the  anti-slavery  ideal. 


48  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

The  earlier  attitude  of  the  South  had  been  friendly 
to  theories  of  emancipation,  but  puzzled  in  regard 
to  the  practical  application  of  those  theories.  But 
the  South  resented  Northern  criticism.  Benton, 
as  late  as  1830,  reflected  the  older  opinion,  stating 
"slavery,  in  the  abstract  has  but  few  advocates,  or 
defenders,  in  the  slave  holdings  states,  and  ...  it 
would  have  fewer  advocates  among  us  than  it  has, 
if  those  who  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  subject, 
would  only  let  us  alone."  Under  the  irritation  of 
the  anti-slavery  oratory,  observing  the  growth  of 
L£-j  the  anti-slavery  societies,  Southern  leaders  wgre 
driven  "to"  a  defense  of  the  morality  of  slavery 
.  Governor  McDuffie  of  South  Carolina,  in  the  middle 
thirties,  was  the  first  official  champion  of  this  new 
attitude.  In  a  message  to  the  legislature,  he 
asserted  that  democracy  meant  a  democracy  of  the 
intelligent  merely,  and  that  this  was  possible  only 
where  a  servile  labor  class  offered  to  the  intelligent, 
opportunity  and  freedom  to  exercise  their  duties 
as  citizens.  Slavery,  he  claimed,  was  the  essential 
bulwark  of  democracy;  and  the  Bible  was  cited  to 
prove  the  sanctity  of  the  institution  as  directly 
ordered  in  the  scheme  of  divine  providence. 
McDuffie  was  in  advance  of  most  of  the  South, 
and  his  message  was  severely  criticised,  but  by 
1850  the  South  was  practically  a  unit  in  supporting 
these  ideas,  everywhere  spread  by  press  and  pulpit. 
Opposition  and  attack  naturally  unify  the  elements 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY          -  49 

in  defense.  Anti-slavery  agitation  created  pro-  ._ 
slavery  harmony  in  ideals, — forced  the  adoption  of  , 
those  ideals  for  which  Southerners  were  ready  to 
sacrifice  their  all.  Southern  resentment  of  the  jeers 
of  this  band  of  idealists  culminated  in  an  effort  to 
prohibit  the  discussion  of  slavery  in  the  halls  of 
Congress.  There  followed  the  famous  battle  of 
John  Quincy  Adams,  for  the  right  of  petition.  The 
contest  lasted  fo$years.  In  1838,  in  a  debate  on 
the  proposed  annexation  of  Texas,  Adams  intro- 
duced  a  petition  against  annexation,  on  the  ground 
of  slavery,  and  then  attempted  to  debate  the  ques 
tion  from  this  point  of  view.  Instantly  he  was 
called  to  order  by  the  speaker,  Polk,  who  stated 
that  slavery  was  not  under  discussion, — as  if  any 
condition  in  a  state  whose  annexation  was  under 
discussion  were  not  debatable.  The  House  sup 
ported  Folk's  ruling,  evidence  of  the  illogical 
lengths  to  which  the  South  and  its  Northern  allies 
would  go  to  prevent  expression  of  anti-slavery 
sentiment.  Yet  in  this  same  debate,  Campbell  of 
South  Carolina  was  permitted  to  defend  slavery, 
stating  that  while  there  had  been  of  old  in  the 
South  a  fear  that  it  might  be,  perhaps,  morally 
wrong,  Northern  criticism  had  led  the  South  to  a 
careful  investigation  which  "has  satisfied  all  sound 
minds  that  slavery  is  neither  a  moral  nor  a  political 
evil  ...  it  has  relieved  many  minds  from  very 
painful  and  uneasy  feelings."  John  Quincy  Adams 


50  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

was  no  abolitionist,  but  he  was  an  eager  fighter,  and 
when,  in  these  contests,  he  heard  the  North  con 
stantly  threatened  with  a  Southern  secession,  he 
answered,  "Let  it  come;  if  it  must  come  in  blood, 
yet  I  say  let  it  come." 

I  have  no  intention  of  dilating  upon  the  argu 
ments  for  and  against  slavery, — rather  my  purpose 
is  to  show  by  incident  and  quotation  the  intensity 
of  feeling,  the  real  conviction,  aroused  by  the  anti- 
slavery  ideal, — to  £rove  its  constant  influence  on 
our  history  from  1830  through  the  Civil  War,  and 
even  after.  It  welded  the  South  into  a  unit,  firm 
in  defense  of  the  institution  in  the  old  states,  seek 
ing  expansion  and  power  in  new  states,  and  ulti 
mately  turning  to  the  theory  of  state  liberty  as  the 
only  salvation.  In  the  North  the  movement  gained 
power  as  the  South  became  more  arrogant  in 
defiance.  The  Southerners'  favorite  comparison 
of  the  lot  of  the  slaves  with  that  of  the  poor  of 
Great  Britain,  was  met  by  Channing's  retort, 
"Misery  is  not  slavery."  In  the  forties,  the  pro 
posed  annexation  of  Texas  drove  hundreds  of  the 
more  intelligent  of  New  England  into  the  ranks  of 
the  abolitionists.  The  older  leaders,  formerly 
despised,  became  popular.  Phillips  could  even  jeer 
at  the  constitution,  telling  the  conservative  "Union" 
men  to  "say  the  constitution  backwards  instead 
of  your  prayers,  and  there  will  be  no  rebellion." 
Garrison  was  more  happy  and  more  convincing, 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  51 

when,  on  July  4,  he  spoke  on  "The  Lessons  of 
Independence  Day,"  and  said: 

"I  present  myself  as  the  advocate  of  my  enslaved 
countrymen,  at  a  time  when  their  claim  cannot  be 
shuffled  out  of  sight,  and  on  an  occasion  which 
entitles  me  to  a  respectful  hearing  in  their  behalf. 
If  I  am  asked  to  prove  their  title  to  liberty,  my 
answer  is,  that  the  fourth  of  July  is  not  a  day  to 
be  wasted  in  establishing  'self-evident  truths/  ': 

The  Mexican  War  was  heart-breaking  to  the 
anti-slavery  leaders,  who  saw  its  inception  in  a 
determination  to  expand  slave  territory  and  fix  the 
institution  for  all  time  on  the  American  nation. 
Momentarily,  weariness  and  dismay  caused  a  desire 
to  separate  from  the  South.  Whittier  wrote: 

"  Take  your  land  of  sun  and  bloom ; 
Only  leave  to  Freedom  room 
For  her  plough,  and  forge,  and  loom;" 

but  soon  with  restored  courage  and  a  renewed  faith 
in  the  future  of  this  nation,  the  contest  assumed 
wider  proportions,  and  this  largely  because  of  the 
new  men  who  now  joined  it.  Such  men  as  Burlin- 
game,  Wilson,  Sumner,  Dana,  Palfrey,  Charles 
Francis  Adams,  Mann,  Chase,  and  Hale,  all  of 
whom  earlier  were  at  least  indifferent,  came  to 
swell  the  list  of  influential  workers.  Lowell  was 
a  tower  of  strength,  especially  in  his  "Biglow 


52  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

Papers."  He  stated  the  "Pious  Editor's  Creed"  in 
these  words : 

"  I  du  believe  in  Freedom's  cause, 

Ez  fur  away  ez  Payris  is ; 
I  love  to  see  her  stick  her  claws 

In  them  infarnal  Phayrisees; 
It's  wal  enough  agin  a  king 

To  dror  resolves  an'  triggers, — 
But  libbaty's  a  kind  o'  thing 

Thet  don't  agree  with  niggers." 

Labored  economic  contentions  to  prove  the  ineffi 
ciency  of  slave  as  compared  with  free  labor,  were 
not  wanting  either.  But  the  Southern  answer  to 
this  was  easy, — as  that  of  Governor  Hammond, 
who  admitted  the  economic  superiority  of  free 
labor,  and  continued: 

"But  the  question  is  whether  free  or  slave  labor 
is  cheapest  to  us  in  this  country,  at  this  time, 
situated  as  we  are.  And  it  is  to  be  decided  at 
once  by  the  fact  that  we  cannot  avail  ourselves  of 
any  other  than  slave  labor." 

and  this  conviction,  unquestionably  sincere,  inten 
sified  Southern  belief  in  the  rightfulness  of  slavery. 
After  the  annexations  of  the  Mexican  War, — 
when  California  was  admitted  as  a  free  state,  when 
the  Compromise  of  1850  had  apparently  settled  for 
all  the  territory  of  the  Union  the  conditions  and 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  53 

extent  of  slavery,  there  was  a  distinct  reaction  in 
the  intensity  of  this  conflict  of  ideals,  and  on  both 
sides.  Except  among  a  few  extremists,  Jhe  domi-^ 
nant  note  was  one  of  thankfulness  for  danger 
escaped,  and  determination,  for  the  safety  of  the  ; 
Union,  to  avoid  disturbing  comments.  This  was 
what  was  meant  by  the  "finality"  of  the  compromise. 
In  both  North  and  South  the  elder  statesmen,  in 
tensely  loyal  to  the  Union,  seeing  it  threatened  by 
slavery  agitation,  urged  "finality"  and  sought  to 
quiet  all  discussion, — dilating  upon  the  trade  rela 
tions  of  the  two  sections.  A  few  of  the  younger, 
or  newer,  men  were  not  content.  Jefferson  Davis 
led  the  extreme  faction  of  the  South,  while 
Seward  became  the  champion  of  Northern  idealists, 
asserting  "Whoever  declares  that  trade  is  the 
cement  of  this  Union,  libels  the  idea  of  American 
civilization."  The  trend  of  public  sentiment  seemed, 
however,  to  be  toward  conciliation,  until  Douglas  of 
Illinois,  with  no  conception  of  the  deep  underlying 
feeling  of  the  North,  aroused  Northern  wrath  by 
his  bill  for  the  Kansas- Nebraska  territory.  That 
bill  provided  for  the  territory  of  Kansas,  with  or 
without  slavery,  as  the  'people  of  the  territory 
might  elect.  "We  are  betrayed,"  shouted  the  anti- 
slavery  leaders,  and  the  people,  sincerely  believing 
in  the  finality  of  the  legislation  of  1850,  considering 
themselves  tricked,  responded  to  the  cry  with  a 
frenzy  that  astounded  Douglas,  and  stirred  an 


1 


54  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

answering  challenge  from  the  South.  The  bill  was 
passed  in  May,  1854,  and  slaveholders  from  Mis 
souri  at  once  crossed  into  the  new  territory.  A  cry 
went  up  in  the  North  for  an  emigration  of  free 
labor,  to  "save  Kansas,"  and  already  there  was 
organized  in  New  England  the  Emigrant  Aid  Soci 
ety,  whose  first  party  started  for  Kansas  in  July, 
1854,  led  by  strong  men  and  vigorous  fighters.  To 
them  Whittier  addressed  a  poem  striking  the  note 
of  a  new  Puritan  emigration : 

"  We  cross  the  prairie  as  of  old 
The  pilgrims  crossed  the  sea, 
To  make  the  West,  as  they  the  East, 
The  homestead  of  the  free!" 

The  issue  was  joined  at  last  between  the  ideals 
of  slavery  and  anti-slavery,  and  the  conflict  of 
force,  not  argument  merely,  was  begun  in  blood, 
upon  the  soil  of  Kansas.  It  would  be  an  error  to 
regard  this  outcry  in  the  North  as  an  expression 
of  anti-slavery  sentiment  merely.  National  patriot 
ism  created  intense  irritation  at  the  breaking  of  a 
solemn  agreement,  and  this  was  the  dominant  feel 
ing,  ^fet  it  was  the  ideal  of  anti-slavery,  neverthe 
less,  whether  openly  acknowledged  or  not,  that 
permitted  and  caused  this  popular  expression. 

In  the  next  few  years,  the  old  Whig  party,  its 
ideals  forgotten,  was  discredited,  the  new  Repub 
lican  party,  vigorously  acclaiming  ideals,  was  born, 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  55 

and  in  this  political  disruption  the  Democratic 
party,  largely  controlled  by  Southern  politicians, 
won  the  election  of  1856.  Then  followed  a  rapid 
readjustment  of  party  lines,  and  in  1860,  the 
^Republicans  inheriting  the  force  of  the  Free  Soilers, 
and  strengthened  by  defections  from  Whigs  and 
Democrats,  elected  Lincoln,  in  spite  of  Southern 
threats  of  secession.  The  strength  of  this  new 
party  lay  in  the  courage  of  its  convictions  and 
ideals,  and  its  chief  cry  was  "no  slavery  in  the 
territories."  Whatever  may  be  said,  however 
largely  other  elements  may  be  magnified,  however 
clearly  evidence  may  show  other  motives  deter 
mining  Lincoln's  vote,  whatever  quotation  may  be 
made  from  the  press,  the  platform,  and  Lincoln's 
own  words  to  prove  that  the  election  did  not  mean 
a  desire  for  abolition  in  the  old  states, — yet  the 
historical  fact  remains  that  it  was  the  ideal  of  I 
anti-slavery  which  had  brought  this  upheavaFlft 
national  politics. 

In  my  previous  lecture,  I  stated  that  the  ideal  of  ] 
nationality  in  the  Civil  War  rose  above  all  other  / 
ideals,   and   fought  and  won  that  war.     But  this 
involves  no  denial  of  the  power  of  the  ideal  of 
anti-slavery,  nor  of  its  victory  in  the  election  of 
1860.    The  instinct  and  understanding  of  the  South 
were    correct.      Whatever    the    immediate    results, 
slavery    must    ultimately     disappear    within     this 
Union,  and  the  South,  seeking  to  preserve  its  ideal 


56  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

of  slavery,  sought  safety  in  the  constitutional  doc 
trines  of  state  liberty,  and  the  right  of  secession. 
And  the  South  was  wholly  sincere,  basing  its 
defense  of  an  institution  it  believed  beneficent  upon 
that  same  Declaration  of  Independence  to  which 
the  anti-slavery  leaders  appealed.  Jefferson  Davis, 
in  his  farewell  speech  to  the  Senate,  January  21, 
1861,  said,  "The  sacred  Declaration  of  Independ 
ence  has  been  invoked  to  maintain  the  position  of 
the  equality  of  the  races."  This  interpretation  of 
the  word  "equality"  he  repudiated,  and  in  defense 
of  the  secession  of  his  state,  Mississippi,  he 
asserted  that  she  but  acted  under  the  sense  of  one 
of  the  very  grievances  that  had  caused  the  Revo 
lution  of  1776.  In  proof  of  this  he  cited,  among 
the  grievances  against  King  George  the  Third,  one 
in  which  he  was  accused  of  "endeavoring  of  late 
to  stir  insurrection  among  our  slaves."  Davis  was 
in  error  in  thinking  there  was  such  an  item  in  the 
Declaration,  for  that  to  which  he  referred  reads, 
"He  has  excited  domestic  insurrections  amongst 
us,"  and  in  Jefferson's  original  draft  this  was  "He 
has  incited  treasonable  insurrections  of  our  fellow 
citizens,  with  the  allurements  of  forfeiture  and 
confiscation  of  our  property," — clearly  no  refer 
ence  to  slaves,  while  in  the  very  next  section  of 
Jefferson's  draft,  though  omitted  in  the  final  form 
of  the  Declaration,  is  a  vigorous  attack  upon  King 
George  III  for  maintaining  the  African  slave  trade 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  57 

against  the  protests  of  the  colonies.  Certainly 
Davis  was  no  historical  student,  but  the  very  bold 
ness  of  his  error  reveals  his  sincerity,  and  the  inten 
sity  of  Southern  conviction.  He  hoped  for  a 
peaceful  secession,  but  if  the  North  refused  this, 
he  affirmed  of  the  South  that  "putting  our  trust  in 
God,  and  in  our  own  firm  hearts  and  strong  arms, 
we  will  vindicate  the  right  as  best  we  may." 


"It  is  joyous  in  the  midst  of  perilous  times  to 
look  around  upon  a  people  united  in  heart,  where 
one  purpose  of  high  resolve  animates  and  actuates 
the  whole,  when  the  sacrifices  to  be  made  are  not 
weighed  in  the  balance,  against  honor,  right,  liberty, 
and  equality.  Obstacles  may  retard,  but  they  can 
not  long  prevent,  the  progress  of  a  movement  sanc 
tioned  by  its  justice  and  sustained  by  a  virtuous 
people.  Reverently  let  us  invoke  the  God  of  our 
fathers  to  guide  and  protect  us  in  our  efforts  to 
perpetuate  the  principles  which  by  His  blessing  they 
were  able  to  vindicate,  establish,  and  transmit  to 
their  posterity ;  and  with  a  continuance  of  His 
favor,  ever  gratefully  acknowledged,  we  may 
hopefully  look  forward  to  success,  to  peace,  to 
prosperity." 


In  these  inspiring  words,  Jefferson  Davis  concluded 
his  inaugural  address  of  February  18,  1861.  He 
voiced  the  ideal  of  liberty.  Alexander  Stephens, 
as  vice-president,  upheld  the  ideal  of  slavery. 
Acknowledging  that  the  fathers  of  the  constitution 


58  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

might   have   had   in   mind  the   ultimate   extinction 
of  slavery,  he  said : 

"Our  new  government  is  founded  upon  exactly 
the  opposite  idea ;  its  foundations  are  laid,  its 
corner-stone  rests  upon  the  great  truth  that  the 
negro  is  not  equal  to  the  white  man,  that  slavery — 
subordination  to  the  superior  race, — is  his  natural 
and  normal  condition. 

"This,  our  new  government,  is  the  first  in  the 
history  of  the  world  based  upon  this  great  physical, 
philosophical,  and  moral  truth.  .  .  .  Our  Confed 
eracy  is  founded  upon  principles  in  strict  con 
formity  with  these  views.  This  stone,  which  was 
rejected  by  the  first  builders,  'is  become  the  chief 
of  the  corner/  the  real  'corner-stone'  in  our  new 
edifice." 

Here  was  the  expression  of  an  ideal,  largely 
created  by  the  anti-slavery  movement  in  the  North. 
Who  will  say  that  the  ideal  of  anti-slavery  was  not 
a  powerful  force  in  our  history?  Yet  at  this  same 
moment  the  abolition  leaders  had  hushed  their 
voices.  At  first  jubilant  over  the  coming  disrup 
tion  of  the  Union,  Wendell  Phillips  had  said  that 
the  flag  of  the  United  States  might  now  be  placed 
as  a  curio  in  the  museum  of  the  Historical  Society. 
But  three  months  later,  April  21,  1861,  a  convert 
to  the  higher  ideal  of  nationality,  in  the  same  public 
hall,  he  renounced  his  stand,  declaring  "today  the 
abolitionist  is  merged  in  the  citizen."  Later  he 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  59 

acknowledged  the  ideal  nature  of  the  conflict  on 
both  sides. 

"The  War  for  the  Union,"  he  said,  "was  .  .  . 
inevitable;  in  one  sense,  nobody's  fault;  the  inevi 
table  result  of  past  training,  the  conflict  of  ideas, 
millions  of  people  grappling  each  other's  throats, 
every  soldier  in  each  camp  certain  that  he  is  fight 
ing  for  an  idea  which  holds  the  salvation  of  the 
world.  .  .  ." 

There  is  no  need  to  dwell  upon  the  later  phases 
of  the  conflict  between  these  opposing  ideals.  The 
Emancipation  Proclamation  was  a  war  measure, 
but  it  became  effective  only  as  territory  was  con 
quered  by  the  North.  During  the  progress  of  the 
war,  the  North,  self-righteous,  became  sentimental 
over  the  negro,  and  at  its  conclusion  legislated  for 
him  on  lines  of  sentiment,  rather  than  of  science. 
But  error  in  the  application  of  an  ideal  does  not 
refute  its  actual  historical  force.  Let  us  turn  again 
to  the  statement  that  geography  and  industrialism 
created  and  determined  this  struggle. 

The  economic  historian  has  said  that,  from  1840 
to  1860,  class  interests  ruled  more  than  ever  before 
in  our  history,  and  that  "moral  consciousness"  was 
at  its  lowest  ebb.  For  this  astounding  assertion,  he 
should  have  piled  proof  on  proof,  for  it  is  directly 
contrary  to  accepted  history.  Possibly  he  mistook 
the  shattering  of  traditions,  the  unrest  of  the  time, 


60  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

for  decay,  when  it  was,  in  fact,  the  first  evidence  of 
new  life.  As  I  read  this  period,  it  was  one  of  intense, 
even  fierce,  spiritual  expression,  manifesting  itself 
in  the  ideals  of  nationality,  manifest  destiny,  democ 
racy,  anti-slavery,  and  in  a  wonderful  home  mis 
sionary  movement.  Economic  interests  can  not,  do 
not,  explain  the  growth  of  anti-slavery  sentiment 
after  1840.  The  deeper  economic  interest,  the  con 
test  of  free  against  slave  labor,  may,  indeed,  as 
Karl  Marx  perceived,  have  been  an  element  in  the 
struggle,  but  it  was  an  element  almost  wholly  with 
out  influence  on  men's  minds,  for  it  was  unrecog 
nized  by  the  mass.  The  more  immediate  economic 
interest  of  the  North,  whether  of  the  cotton  lords 
of  New  England,  or  of  the  business  world  in  gen 
eral,  was  against  the  agitation  of  the  slavery 
V  question,  and  it  is  the  obvious  economic  interest, 
\tit  the  basic__Qne,  that  makes  itself  felt  in  political 
action. 

The  real  truth  is  that,  until  the  thirties,  New 
England  religious  dogmatism,  and  the  controversies 
in  regard  to  it,  held  intellectual  interests,  to  the 
exclusion  of  humanitarian  sentiment  in  regard  to 
slavery.  Meanwhile  the  economic  interest  of  New 
England,  centered  in  her  manufactories,  tended  to 
a  defense  of  slavery.  Abolition  and  anti-slavery 
were  nowhere  more  bitterly  denounced.  It  is  true, 
no  doubt,  that  Southern  industrial  conditions,  agi 
tated  by  the  anti-slavery  outcry,  deepened  Southern 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  61 

conviction  of  the  morality  of  slavery,  but  it  is  not 
true  that  the  absence  of  those  conditions  in  New 
England  created  an  anti-slavery  ideal.  That  ideal 
was,  rather,  an  intellectual  and  spiritual  concep 
tion, — the  result  of  a  thousand  years,  it  may  be, 
of  the  slow  development  of  human  thought,  and 
of  a  thought  always  laboring  under  the  necessity  of 
differentiating  good  from  evil.  The  ideals  of  per 
sonal  liberty,  and  of  humanity,  were  not  created 
by  the  "boulder-strewn  soil"  of  New  England. 
They  already  existed  there,  and  when  directed  to 
the  question  of  slavery,  won  a  victory  in  men's 
minds  over  the  economic  interest  of. the  community. 


Ill 

MANIFEST  DESTINY— AN  EMOTION 


Ill 

MANIFEST  DESTINY— AN  EMOTION 

Before  attempting  a  narration  of  the  origin  and 
growth  of  the  ideal  of  manifest  destiny,  in  its  terri 
torial  expansion  aspect,  I  find  it  necessary,  in  order 
that  its  later  phases  may  be  understood,  to  state 
explicitly  what  I  conceive  to  be  the  essence  of  the 
ideal  of  manifest  destiny  as  a  force  in  our  history, 
actively  recognized  at  the  time  it  was  exercised. 
The  materialistic  historians  attribute  the  westward 
movement  of  population  to  a  mere  desire  for  the 
"gross  comforts  of  material  abundance."  In 
answer  to  this,  President  Woodrow  Wilson,  the 
historian,  has  written: 

"The  obvious  fact  is  that  for  the  creation  of  the 
nation  the  conquest  of  her  proper  territory  from 
Nature  was  first  necessary;  and  this  task,  which 
is  hardly  yet  completed,  has  been  idealized  in  the 
popular  mind.  A  bold  race  has  derived  inspiration 
from  the  size,  the  difficulty,  the  danger  of  the  task." 

In  my  opinion  both  of  these  interpretations  are  in 
error.  The  purely  materialistic  historian  loses  sight 
of  the  fact  that  the  people  wh^  cook  part  in  the 
westward  move^^nt  up  to  1830,  carried  with  them 
the  ideal  of  democracy.  Mr.  Wilson,  regarding  this 
wonderiul  movement  from  the  point  of  view  of 


66  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

later  times,  himself  feeling  the  joy  the  pioneer  must 
have  had  in  the  mere  subjection  of  the  soil,  admir 
ing  his  energy  and  courage,  has  depicted  the  move 
ment  in  colors  that  serve  to  idealize  it.  But  it  is 
an  error  to  assert  that  our  understanding,  our  ideali 
zation,  of  events  and  conditions  was  also  the  con 
scious  understanding  and  idealization  of  the  men 
who  were  participants  in  those  events  and  condi 
tions.  We  of  the  present  age  rightly  regard  as 
heroic  the  American  migration  from  East  to  West, 
and  exalt  the  personal  virtues  of  the  men  who 
led, — and  of  the  women,  those  "Mothers  of  a 
Forest  Land,  whose  bosoms  pillowed  Men!"  But 
an  ideal,  unless  it  is  consciously  held  by  the  actors, 
can  not  be  considered  as  a  living  force  on  men's 

ever  felt  any  "inspiration  from  the  size,  the  diffi 
culty,  the  danger  of  the  task,"  and  I  certainly  do 
not  believe  that  before  1830,  in  thus  moving  west, 
he  was  at  all  consciously  influenced  by  an  ideal  of 

\expanding  national  territory.  yThe  inspiration 
which  he  did  carry  we<?t  with  him  was  that  of 


minds   in   their   political   activities.      Now    I   very 
much   doubt  whether  a  man  who  "moved  west," 


by    1830    there   had   beeji 


idded  tht  mspiratiori^ofjiationality,  the  two  oper- 
itecPto  cFeateTa  new  element  in  jmanrfest  destiny^ 


and  that  new  elemenfwas  territorial  expansion, — 


a  continent-wide  national  destiny.     The  westward 


<  movement  dicl  not  create  this  "new  ideal,  it  was  but 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  67 

the  necessary  preliminary  condition  in  which  certain 
inspirations,  already  held,  took  on  a  new  form. 
It  follows  from  this  that  I  do  not  consider  the 
mere  shifting  of  population  a  result  of  the  ideal 
of  manifest  destiny.  That  ideal  included,  up  to, 
about  1830,  the  sense  oF~"democracy  and  a  belief  in 
its  superiority;  afterwards,  a  desire  to  expand  it, 
and  to  increase  national  power  by  territorial 
acquisition.  The  ideal  of  democracy  and  its  mani 
festations,  I  reserve  for  a  later  lecture.  The  present 
lecture  is  primarily  concerned,  then,  with  the  emo 
tion  of  territorial  expansion, — the  emotion  of 
manifest  destiny.  But  it  is  to  be  understood  that 
JQ  each  step  forward  in  our  territorial  growth  since 
1800,  there  was  a  general  belief  that  democracy  was 
expanding  as  well  as  national  boundaries. 


The1  sense  of  destiny  is  an  attribute  of  all  nations 
and  all  peoples.  If  we  could  penetrate  beyond  the 
veil  of  recorded  history,  and  grasp  the  emotions  of 
tribes  and  races,  of  whom  it  is  known  only  that 
they  existed,  probably  we  should  find  that  these 
tribes  also  felt  themselves  a  people  set  apart  for 
some  high  purpose.  Possibly  even  the  cannibal, 
as  he  sacrifices  his  victim,  satisfies  both  his  physical 
and  his  spiritual  being, — though  it  is  unlikely  that 
the  victim  appreciates  the  service  he  is  rendering. 
Among  civilized  peoples,  national  destiny  has  fre- 


68  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

quently  been  accompanied  by  cannibalistic  rites, — 
also  with  an  equal  ignorance  of  a  service  performed 
by  the  absorbed.  Certainly  there  is  no  great  nation 
today  that  has  not  a  belief  in  its  destiny,  both  in 
respect  to  territory  and  of  peculiar  function.  The 
larger  nations  seek  "a  place  in  the  sun"  for  their 
peoples.  The  smaller  are  content  to  feel  that  their 
existence,  as  now  established,  is  a  manifestation  of 
providence,  and  urge  this  against  absorption 
threatened  by  powerful  neighbors.  tBut  all  nations 
that  are  worth  anything,  always  have  had,  and 
^always  will  have,  some  ideal  of  national  destiny, 
c<ind  without  it,  would  soon  disappear,  and  would 
deserve  their  fate^ 

America  has  felt  herself  destined  for  various 
high  purposes.  In  early  colonial  times,  the  New 
England  communities  felt  more  than  all  else  that 
they  were  destined  to  occupy  and  preserve  a  small 
section  of  the  earth,  where  those  of  like  religious 
faith  and  practice  could  realize,  without  govern 
mental  interference,  certain  religious  ideals.  There 
were  few  who  thought  of  a  separate  national  exist 
ence  from  England,  and  it  was  not  until  shortly 
before  the  war  of  independence  that  there  was  any 
general  conception  of  governmental  ideals  different 
from  those  of  Great  Britain.  Even  after  inde 
pendence  was  won,  the  eyes  of  America  were  still 
unconsciously  turned  toward  the  old  world,  the 
colonial  instinct  was  still  dominant,  and  it  was  only 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  69 

after  the  war  of  LSI 2  that  America  turned  her  gaze 
inward  upon  herself.  At  once  she  felt  and  ex 
pressed  her  "peculiar  destiny," — at  first  as  the 
cjipsen  servant  of  the  spreading  ideal  of  democ 
racy,  later  in  terms  of  territorial  greatness.  Mili 
tant  patriotism  came  to  reinforce  this  sense  of  a 
special  national  function  in  the  cause  of  civilization, 
and  that  patriotism  pictured  Great  Britain  as  the 
hereditary  foe  of  America.  This  was  inevitable, 
since  stories  of  valor  or  of  suffering  were  neces 
sarily  connected  with  the  only  nation  with  whom 
we  had  fought.  The  schoolboy,  in  selected  orations 
and  poetry,  was  trained  in  this  hostility  towards 
England, — a  hostility  which  was,  in  fact,  merely 
one  expression  of  nationality.  Captain  Hall,  an 
Englishman  traveling  in  the  United  States,  in  1827, 
was  both  amused  and  astonished  on  visiting  the 
Boston  public  schools,  that  a  boy  called  up  to 
"speak"  for  the  visitor's  pleasure,  should  recite  a 
"furious  philippic"  against  Great  Britain,  while  a 
second  youth  gave  an  oration  beginning: 

"For  eighteen  hundred  years  the  world  had 
slumbered  in  ignorance  of  liberty,  and  of  the  true 
rights  of  freemen.  At  length  America  arose  in  all 
her  glory,  to  give  the  world  the  long  desired  lesson !" 

The  intolerance  of  America  in  thus  training  its 
youth  in  fixed  hostility  to  old  England,  the  arro 
gance  of  the  young  nation,  in  a  new  land,  assuming 


70  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

to  instruct  the  old  world,  were  truly  amusing,  yet 
back  of  all  bombast  and  back  of  all  crudity  of 
expression  was  the  sincere  conviction  that  America 
was  destined  to  be  the  greater  nation,  that  it  would 
accomplish  greater  things,  that  it  could  offer  excep 
tional  enlightenment  and  bestow  unusual  favors. 

The  period  from  1830  to  18.6Q  is  usually  regarded 
as  that  in  which  the  ideal  of  manifest  destiny  most 
affected  our  history.  During  these  years  the  term 
"manifest  destiny"  vaguely  expressed  the  sense  of 
the  American  people  that  their  government  gave 
v/  an  example  to  the  world  of  the  success  of  the 

democratic  principle,  and  that  power  went  hand 
|  in  hand  with  democracy.  Previous  to  1830  the 
•y  westward  shifting  of  population  did  not  imply  a 
;  belief  in  a  continent-wide  country.  Year  after 
year  American  citizens  laboriously  surmounted  the 
Appalachian  range,  sought  the  sources  of  the 
streams  flowing  to  the  west,  and  followed  these 
to  the  land  of  promise.  Until  the  completion  of 
the  Erie  Canal  the  bulk  of  this  movement  was  from 
the  middle  and  southern  states,  a  poor  white  popu 
lation  rinding  in  the  rich  soil  of  Kentucky,  or 
Indiana,  or  Ohio,  an  improved  industrial  oppor 
tunity,  and  founding  settlements  marked  by  extreme 
simplicity  and  equality.  Gradually  the  wide  domain 
of  the  territory  east  of  the  Mississippi  was  dotted 
with  villages  and  farms,  and  by  1830  the  frontier 
had  moved  across  the  river  into  the  lands  of  the 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  71 

Louisiana  purchase.  After  1825,  there  came  an 
increased  northern  migration,  swelled  by  a  steady 
stream  of  British  immigrants,  though  this  last  was 
never  large  and  almost  ceased  temporarily  in  1830. 
The  German  immigration  of  the  early  thirties  added 
to  this  wave  of  humanity  moving  westward.  But 
as  yet  there  ,was  room  for  all,  and  save  for  the 
uneasy  frontiersman,  restless  if  he  had  any  neigh 
bors,  there  could  be  no  pressing  need,  for  many 
years  to  come,  of  lands  beyond  the  established 
boundaries  of  the  country.  x 

The  controversy  with  Great  Britain  in  the 
twenties  over  Oregon  made  clear  that  America, 
before  1830,  had  no  thought  of  continental  dominion 
and  regarded  as  a  dreamer  the  man  who  would  still 
expand  the  national  domain.  Benton,  senator  from 
Missouri,  was  such  a  dreamer,  but  dared  not  give 
expression  to  his  dream.  In  1825,  Russia,  by 
treaties  with  England  and  the  United  States,  had 
renounced  her  claims  south  of  54°  40',  leaving  the 
two  remaining  powers  in  joint  possession.  At  once 
a  bill  was  introduced  in  Congress  for  the  military 
occupation  of  Oregon.  A  few  supported  it,  more 
were  opposed,  but  the  great  majority  were  wholly 
indifferent.  Dickerson  of  New  Jersey  made  the 
principal  speech  against  the  measure.  "We  have 
not,"  he  said,  "adopted  a  system  of  colonization, 
and  it  is  to  be  hoped  we  never  shall.  Oregon  can 
never  be  one  of  the  United  States.  If  we  extend 


72  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

our  laws  to  it,  we  must  consider  it  as  a  colony.  .  .  . 
Is  this  territory  of  Oregon  ever  to  become  a  state, 
a  member  of  this  Union?  Never.  The  Union  is 
already  too  extensive."  He  then  entered  upon  a 
calculation  to  prove  the  utter  impossibility  of  a 
representative  in  Congress  for  Oregon,  since  mere 
distance  would  prove  an  effective  barrier.  Postu 
lating  that  a  representative  must  visit  his  constit 
uents  at  least  once  a  year,  he  stated  the  distance 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia  to  Washington 
as  4650  miles,  or  9300  for  the  round  trip.  Accord 
ing  to  federal  law  granting  mileage  payment  to 
congressmen,  the  average  rate  of  travel  was  then 
twenty  miles  per  day,  but  supposing  the  Oregonian 
to  exceed  this  rate  of  speed,  and  to  maintain  the 
high  average  of  thirty  miles,  "This,"  continued 
Dickerson,  "would  allow  the  member  a  fortnight 
to  rest  himself  at  Washington  before  he  should 
commence  his  journey  home.  ...  It  would  be  more 
expeditious,  however,  to  come  by  water  round  Cape 
Horn,  or  to  pass  through  Behrings  Straits,  round 
the  North  coast  of  this  Continent  to  Baffin's  Bay, 
thence  through  Davis  Straits  to  the  Atlantic,  and 
so  on  to  Washington.  It  is  true,  this  passage  is 
not  yet  discovered,  except  upon  our  maps, — but  it 
will  be  as  soon  as  Oregon  shall  be  a  State." 

Benton  himself  was  oppressed  by  the  remote 
ness  of  the  territory,  and  standing  almost  alone  in 
the  Senate,  did  not  dare  to  profess  a  belief  that 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  73 

Oregon  could  ever  be  admitted  to  the  Union.  He 
asserted,  rather,  that  "the  greatest  of  all  advantages 
to  be  derived  from  the  occupation  of  this  country, 
is  in  the  exclusion  of  foreign  powers  from  it." 
He  did  assert,  however,  that  Oregon  would  soon  be 
settled,  either  by  European  or  by  American  colo 
nists,  and  declared  that  it  lay  with  Congress  to 
determine  which.  Seeking  to  persuade  his  hearers 
to  action  he  pictured  American  settlement  on  lines 
of  ultimate  separation  from  the  United  States.  The 
successive  steps  would  be  military  occupation,  set 
tlements  and  a  civil  territorial  government,  then 
clamors  against  the  hardship  of  dependence  upon 
a  government  so  remote  as  Washington,  and  finally 
independence  willingly  granted  by  the  mother 
country.  Continuing  his  plea  for  action,  Benton 
even  acknowledged  that  the  Rocky  Mountains 
formed  the  natural  limit  of  the  United  States.  To 
the  west  of  that  line,  this  offspring  of  our  institu 
tions  would  guard  our  interests,  and  America  would 
have  cause  to  rejoice  in  having  aided  "in  the  erec 
tion  of  a  new  Republic,  composed  of  her  children, 
speaking  her  language,  inheriting  her  principles, 
devoted  to  liberty  and  equality,  and  ready  to  stand 
by  her  side  against  the  combined  powers  of  the  old 
world." 

The  long  journey  to  Oregon  was  indeed  a  barrier 
to  settlement  in  the  twenties.  The  next  step  of  the 
American  advance  was  to  the  southwest  rather  than 


74  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

to  the  northwest,  and  marks  the  faint  beginnings 
of  the  expressed  ideal  of  a  territorial  manifest  des 
tiny,  later  developed  to  great  proportions.  There 
were  several  elements  merged  in  the  American 
interest  in,  and  desire  for,  Texas;  the  impulsion  of 
the  westward  movement  as  lands  further  west  and 
south  became  available  to  settlers;  the  natural  and 
hopeful  interest  of  Southerners  who  urged  and 
anticipated  annexation;  and,  in  addition,  the  call 
of  manifest  destiny, — the  yearning  for  power  and 
territory.  For  a  time,  however,  the  more  cautious 
and  conservative  opinion  of  the  older  states  checked 
the  cry  for  annexation  and  Texas  was  forced  to  rest 
under  a  separate  sovereignty.  Meanwhile,  as  evi 
dence  that  the  earlier  movement  on  Texas  was  no 
mere  slavery  conspiracy,  as  Northern  historians  of 
/  ]  the  time  declared,  but  was  a  manifestation  of 
revived  restlessness,  and  of  a  popular  belief  in  the 
destined  further  expansion  of  America,  we  have 
but  to  note  the  conditions  of  the  Canadian  rebellion 
of  1837. 

The  causes  of  this  miniature  revolution  do  not 
call  for  narration,  except  to  explain  that  in  both 
Lower  and  Upper  Canada  the  leaders  proclaimed 
their  admiration  of  American  institutions  and 
claimed  that  they  were  righting  for  self-government. 
Easily  defeated  in  Canada,  they  fled  across  the 
border,  appealing  to  the  "sympathy  and  generosity 
of  a  liberty-loving  people,"  and  there  renewed  their 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  75 

efforts  to  overthrow  the  Canadian  governments. 
The  revolution  began  in  the  last  months  of  1837. 
At  that  time  the  United  States  was  in  the  throes  of 
the  most  serious  financial  crisis  in  her  history; 
everywhere  there  were  great  numbers  of  idle  men, 
and  as  filibusters  and  meddlesome  fighters  are 
always  recruited  from  the  idle  and  lawless  classes, 
there  were  many  sympathizers,  with  empty  pockets, 
ready  to  join  the  adventure  to  "redeem  Canada." 
Yet  there  were  higher  motives,  and  higher-minded 
men  concerned  in  the  movement.  MacKenzie,  the 
leader^  of  the  revolution  in  Upper  Canada,  was  a 
man  of  unquestioned  honor  and  high  ideals,  and 
\vpn  the  sympathy  of  the  American  idealist  who  saw 
in  his  plans  an  effort  to  spread  American  political 
principles.  In  addition,  there  were  those  who 
thought  that  the  revolution  might  be  a  first  step 
toward  the  admission  of  Canada  to  the  Union.  The 
emotion  of  territorial  greatness  was  beginning  to  be 
felt,  and  the  riff-raff  of  the  northern  frontier,  from 
Vermont  to  Michigan,  were  encouraged  by  the 
expression  of  ideals  of  democracy  and  expansion, 
in  public  meetings  and  in  the  press.  The  govern 
ment  at  Washington  condemned  this  border  excite 
ment,  but  at  first  was  badly  hampered  in  suppressing  " 
it,  owing  to  antiquated  and  ineffective  neutralitvX 
laws. 

"The  American,"  says  Mr.  Bryce,  "likes  excite 
ment  for  its  own  sake  and  goes  wherever  he  can 


76  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

find  it."  Americans  of  this  spirit  were  the  first  to 
hasten  to  the  call  of  the  Canadian  revolutionists, 
but  their  number  was  soon  increased  by  the  unem 
ployed,  and  even  by  some  who  saw  in  the  event  a 
chance  to  attack  privilege  and  property, — as  the 
barber  of  Plattsburg,  moulding  musket  balls,  and 
rejoicing  that  "one  ball  wrould  do  the  business  of 
a  man  worth  £2000  a  year."  The  first  rendezvous 
of  these  would-be  American-Canadian  "Patriots" 
was  Navy  Island,  just  above  Niagara  Falls  on  the 
Canadian  side  of  the  river.  Here  a  camp  of  the 
"grand  army  of  invasion"  was  established,  and  here 
a  steamboat,  the  Caroline,  carried  supplies  and  men 
from  the  American  side.  In  order  to  cut  off  this 
communication,  a  small  Canadian  force  crossed  the 
river  in  the  night  to  the  spot  where  the  Caroline 
was  anchored,  cut  her  out,  towed  her  into  mid 
stream,  set  her  on  fire,  and  left  her  to  drift  over 
the  falls.  The  affair  created  a  terrific  excitement. 
American  territory  had  been  invaded,  her  sacred 
soil  polluted  by  the  myrmidons  of  a  despotic  gov 
ernment.  The  Rochester  Democrat,  inspired  to 
poetic  frenzy,  wrote: 

"  As  over  the  shelving  rocks  she  broke, 
And  plunged  in  her  turbulent  grave, 
The  slumbering  genius  of  Freedom  woke, 

Baptized  in  Niagara's  wave, 
And  sounded  her  warning  tocsin  far, 
From  Atlantic's  shore  to  the  polar  star." 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  77 

For  genius  immersed  in  Niagara's  wave,  this  was 
indeed  a  far  cry.  But  the  "Caroline  Affair"  was  in 
truth  a  serious  one,  since  it  called  for  revenge,  thus 
adding  strength  to  the  "patriot"  cause. 

.  On  the  Canadian  side,  the  cry  arose  that  Great 
Britain  must  gird  herself  to  defend  monarchical 
institutions  and  territory.  Lieutenant-Governor 
Head,  of  Upper  Canada,  was  as  rabid  and  as  melo 
dramatic  as  the  editor  of  the  Democrat.  He  pic 
tured  this  petty  conflict  as  a  contest  between  repub 
lican  and  monarchical  institutions.  In  a  public 
address  he  asserted : 

"The  People  of  Upper  Canada  detest  Democ 
racy.  .  .  .  They  are  perfectly  aware  that  there 
exist  in  the  Lower  Province  one  or  two  individuals 
who  inculcate  the  Idea  that  this  Province  is  about 
to  be  disturbed  by  the  Interference  of  Foreigners 
[Americans],  whose  Power  and  whose  Numbers 
will  prove  invincible. 

"In  the  name  of  every  Regiment  of  militia  in 
Upper  Canada  I  publicly  promulgate — Let  them 
come  if  they  dare." 

"The  enemy  of  the  British  Constitution,"  he 
said,  "is  its  low-bred  Antagonist,  Democracy  in 
America." 

Later,  in  reporting  a  skirmish  between  a  few 
Canadians  and  revolutionists,  part  of  whom  were 
American  recruits,  he  wrote : 


78  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

"The  Republicans  stood  their  ground  until  the 
monarchical  troops  arrived  within  about  twenty 
yards  of  them,  when,  abandoning  their  position,  as 
also  their  Principle  that  all  men  are  born  equal, 
they  decamped  in  the  greatest  confusion." 

As  apparently  there  were  no  shots  exchanged  in  this 
fearful  battle,  the  case  does  indeed  seem  one  of 
those  rare  instances  where  principles  were  the  sole 
contenders.  Surely,  if  the  American  was  fond  of 
"twisting  the  Lion's  tail,"  Head  had  revenge  in 
"plucking  the  Eagle's  feathers." 

From  a  perspective  of  seventy-five  years,  the 
American  relation  to  the  Canadian  rebellion  seems 
ephemeral, — serio-comic.  Yet  the  disturbances 
'"  along  the  border  gave  evidence  of  a  real  intensity 
of  feeling,  and  a  genuine  passion  for  expansion. 
The  trouble  lasted  for  two  years,  and  was  contem-_ 
porary  with  a  renewed  dispute  over  the  Maine 
boundary.  There  now  came  to  the  surface  the  feel 
ing,  later  very  powerful,  that  American  destiny  ran 
counter  to  that  of  England  on  this  continent,  and 
that  one  or  the  other  must  give  way.  Gushing, 
speaking  in  Congress  in  1839,  asserted  that  England 
was  pursuing  a  definite  policy  of  irritation,  wher 
ever  she  could  press  in  upon  the  United  States, — 
over  the  Maine  boundary,  in  the  Northwest,  where 
the  Indians  were  causing  trouble,  and  in  Oregon. 

"Unless,"  he  said,  "this  all  grasping  spirit  of 
universal  encroachment  on  the  part  of  Great 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  79 

Britain  be  arrested,  either  by  moderation  in  her 
councils,  or  by  fear,  the  time  must  and  will  come, 
when  her  power  and  ours  cannot  co-exist  on  the 
continent  of  North  America." 

This  meant  that  the  United  States  would  be  forced 
to  expand  in  defense  of  what  she  already  pos 
sessed, — but  back  of  this  lay  the  desire  of  expansion 
for  its  own  sake.  In  the  late  thirties  this  demand 
for  territory  and  power  was  nation-wide,  and 
though  it  was  but  one  of  the  causes  of  the  border 
troubles  of  that  time,  it  first  found  expression  in 
them.  Failing  to  achieve  results  in  Canada,  interest 
easily  tamed  to  the  southern  border,  where  Texas 
waited. 

When,  in  1836,  Texas  declared  her  independence 
from  Mexico,  the  Americans  who  had  established 
that  independence,  strongly  desired  annexation. 
The  offer  was  declined,  but  the  migration  into  this 
new  country  rapidly  increased,  and  the  newcomers 
reinforced  annexation  sentiment  both  in  Texas  and 
4iTtne  United  States.  By  1842,  Texas  had  secured 
recognition  from  the  stronger  powers  as  an  inde 
pendent  state,  and  to  two  of  these  powers,  England 
and  the  United  States,  the  future  of  Texas  became 
a  matter  of  great  importance.  Slavery  existed,  and 
cotton  seemed  destined  to  be  the  chief  industrial 
product.  England,  hoping  to  free  herself  from 
dependence  on  American  cotton,  and  at  the  same 
time  establish  a  barrier  to  further  American  expan- 


80  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

sion,  naturally  encouraged  Texan  independence. 
The  United  States,  while  rejoicing  over  this  new 
Anglo-Saxon  nation,  was  yet  in  a  doubtful  position 
in  regard  to  it.  Mexico  stubbornly  refused  to 
acknowledge  Texan  independence,  and  annexation 
might  involve  us  in  a^war.  Northern  feeling  was 
against  a  new  slave  state,  so  large  that  several  slave 
states  seemed  then  inevitable.  In  the  South  there 
rapidly  developed  enthusiasm  for  annexation  on  the 
score  of  Southern  political  influence,  and  the  senti 
ment  of  manifest  destiny  was  appealed  to, — an 
effective  appeal,  since  the  hearts  of  all  our  Western 
people  beat  responsive  to  the  cry.  By  1842,  the 
South  was  determined  to  have  Texas,  and  the 
"Texan  game,"  as  Northern  opponents  termed  it, 
was  begun. 

p  /  Manifest  destiny  was  a  strong  factor  in  annexa- 
'  'tion  sentiment,  but  a  more  specific  argument  was 
found  in  the  national  jealousy  of  England.  Tyler 
*y  and  Calhoun  raised  the  cry  of  British  opposition, 
with  more  justice  than  the  partisans  of  anti- 
slavery  admitted.  Great  Britain  did  indeed  hope 
that  in  Texas  she  would  find  a  block  to  the  increas 
ing  power  of  America,  and  even  dreamed  of  induc 
ing  Texas  to  abolish  slavery.  Elliot,  the  British 
diplomat  in  Texas,  confined  his  official  efforts, 
however,  to  a  preservation  of  the  independence  of 
Texas.  He  sought  to  check  annexation  sentiment, 
picturing  the  future  greatness  of  an  independent 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  81 

Texas.  British  colonists  were  introduced,  but  they 
were  few  in  number  compared  with  the  steady 
stream  from  the  United  States,  and,  as  Elliot  him 
self  sorrowfully  confessed,  they  were  wholly 
inferior  in  the  art  of  pioneering.  Like  Peter 
Simple,  the  British  colonist  "preferred  to  walk, 
rather  than  to  run,  toward  his  goal,  for  fear  he 
would  arrive  out  of  breath."  Elliot,  marveling  at 
the  difficulties  and  crudities  of  the  American  push 
westward,  said  "they  jolt  and  jar  terrifically  in  their 
progress,  but  on  they  do  get."  With  the  coming  of 
new  American  settlers,  it  became  certain  that  Texas 
herself  cared  more  for  annexation  than  for  inde 
pendence.  In  the  United  States  the  sentiment  of 
expansion  grew  steadily  in  strength,  and  though 
Calhoun,  raising  the  cry  of  British  interference,  was 
at  first  defeated  by  the  conservative  and  anti- 
slavery  elements  in  the  Senate,  the  campaign  of 
Polk  in  1844,  when  the  rivalry  with  England  for 
Oregon  was  also  played  upon,  settled  the  destiny 
of  Texas.  In  that  campaign  was  heard,  at  last, 
no  mere  feeble  and  isolated  assertion  of  a  continent- 
wide  destiny,  but  a  positive  and  general  profession 
of  faith  in  the  inevitable  progress  of  democratic 
institutions  and  "Anglo-Saxon"  ideals,  destined  to 
triumph  over  monarchical  principles  and  inferior 
races.  The  clap-trap  political  oratory  of  this  cam 
paign  is  distressing  to  the  patriotic  historian,  and 
I  refrain  from  quotation,  but  it  must  be  recognized 


S2  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

that  such  oratory  was  used  and  was  effective, 
simply  because  it  reflected  an  American  emotion. 
Manifest  destiny,  in  terms  of  expansion,  suddenly 
revealed  itself  as  a  powerful  sentiment,  against 
which  the  conservative  minority  struggled  in  vain. 
Nor  was  the  expression  of  this  sentiment  confined 
to  the  political  orator.  Lyman  Beecher,  in  a  sermon 
enumerating  the  vices  threatening  American  life, 
yet  claimed  for  America  a  superior  position  among 
nations.  "Our  very  beginning,"  he  said,  "was 
civilized,  learned  and  pious."  And  even  yet 
America  is 

".  .  .  still  the  richest  inheritance  which  the  mercy 
of  God  continues  to  the  troubled  earth.  Nowhere 
beside,  if  you  search  the  world  over,  will  you  find 
so  much  real  liberty ;  so  much  equality ;  so  much 
personal  safety,  and  temporal  prosperity ;  so  general 
an  extension  of  useful  knowledge ;  so  much  reli 
gious  instruction;  so  much  moral  restraint;  and 
so  much  divine  mercy,  to  make  these  blessings  the 
power  of  God,  and  the  wisdom  of  God  unto 
salvation." 

*  ^ 

If  these  blessings  were  indeed  peculiar  to  America, 

,vM'     what  reasonable  opposition  could  exist  to  carrying 
them  into  new  territory? 

Folk's  election  determined  the  future  of  Texas, 
and  Great  Britain  regretfully  relinquished  her  hope 
of  a  barrier  state,  yet  consoled  herself  with  the 
thought  that  mere  (territorial  weight  would  break 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  83 

the  Unfon  in  fragments. )  But  with  Oregon  it  was 
a  different  matter.  During  the  campaign,  Demo 
cratic  orators  had  declared  for  the  extreme  Ameri 
can  claim, — "fifty-four  forty  or  fight,"  and  to  this 
England  would  by  no  means  agree.  Southern 
leaders,  gratified  as  to  Texas,  now  sought  to  quiet 
the  expansion  sentiment  they  had  used  with  so 
much  success.  Previously,  in  1843,  a  bill  for  the 
organization  of  Oregon,  offering  lands  to  settlers, 
had  been  introduced  in  Congress.  Senator  McDuffie 
of  South  Carolina,  who  saw  in  slavery  the  "bulwark 
of  republican  institutions,"  was  against  it,  saying: 

"I  would  not  give  a  pinch  of  snuff  for  the  whole 
territory.  I  wish  to  God  we  did  not  own  it,  I  wish 
it  was  an  impassable  barrier  to  secure  us  against 
the  intrusion  of  others.  .  .  .  Do  you  think  your 
honest  farmers  in  Pennsylvania,  New  York,  or  even 
Ohio  or  Missouri,  will  abandon  their  farms  to  go 
upon  any  such  enterprise  as  that?  God  forbid!" 

At  the  time  McDuffie  made  this  speech,  other 
Southerners  were  more  reserved,  but  no  sooner  had 
Tyler  despatched  the  offer  to  receive  Texas  into 
the  Union  than  the  sentiments  of  McDuffie  were 
revived.  But  Polk,  a  determined  expansionist, 
already  planning  to  go  far  beyond  Texas,  and  to 
carry  American  territory  to  the  Pacific  in  the  South 
as  well  as  in  the  North,  stood  firmly  for  Oregon. 
Apparently  he  intended  to  exact  the  extreme 
American  claim,  and  hostilities  with  England 


84  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

seemed  near.  At  the  same  time,  Mexico,  still 
claiming  Texas  as  her  own,  threatened  war,  while 
Texas  unexpectedly  delayed  a  formal  acceptance 
of  the  annexation  proposal.  The  situation  seemed 
dangerous,  and  with  a  prospect  of  war  on  both 
northern  and  southern  borders,  wisdom  urged 
caution.  Horace  Greeley,  opposed  to  slavery 
expansion,  argued  in  the  New  York  Tribune  against 
any  expansion,  citing  Benton's  speech  of  1825  to 
prove  that  the  Rocky  Mountains  formed  a  natural 
boundary.  Winthrop,  in  Congress,  answered  the 

(expansionist  dogma,  "The  finger  of  God  never 
points  in  a  direction  contrary  to  the  extension  of 
the  glory  of  the  Republic,"  by  quoting: 

"  Glory  is  like  a  circle  in  the  water, 
Which  never  ceaseth  to  enlarge  itself, 
Till  by  broad  spreading  it  disperse  to  naught" 

But  Greeley  and  Winthrop  were  upheld  by  the 
anti-slavery  faction  alone.  The  New  York  Sun 
and  the  New  York  Herald  strongly  approved 
annexation  and  expansion,  the  latter  asserting, 
If  'Our  march  is  onward  for  centuries  to  come,  still 

S2J&  \\°nward — and  they  who  do  not  keep  up  with  us, 
4  must  fall  behind  and  be  forgotten," — apparently  a 
reference  to  Mexico.  According  to  the  Evening 
Post,  Greeley  stood  alone  in  the  North:  "With  the 
exception  of  the  Tribune  .  .  .  there  is  not  a  press 
in  the  Union  which  does  not  say  Oregon  is  ours 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  85 

and  must  be  maintained."     Polk  had  no  intention 
of  drifting  into  war  with  England,  and,  after  a  due 
amount  of  bluster,  agreed  to  the  forty-ninth  parallel 
as  the  proper  boundary  of  Oregon;  but  before  this  i 
was  known,  the  Herald,  with  an  eye  on  all  NorthV/ 
America,  expressed  the  hope  that  war  would  ensue/ 
with  both  England  and  Mexico. 

"The  destiny  of  the  Republic,"  it  stated,  "is 
apparent  to  every  eye.  Texas  Annexation  must  be 
consummated,  and  the  immediate  results  of  that 
event  may  only  precipitate  the  subjugation  of  the 
whole  continent,  despite  of  all  the  opposing  efforts 
of  the  despotic  dynasties  of  Europe." 

Thus  we  were  "destined"  to  have  Mexico  and 
Canada  sometime; — why  not  now?  The  Wash 
ington  Union,  the  administration  paper,  while 
relations  with  England  and  Mexico  were  still  unde 
termined,  expressed  deep  suspicion  of  Great 
Britain,  and  asserted  that  no  nation  could  thwart 
American  "destiny." 

"The  march  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race  is  onward. 
They  must  in  the  event,  accomplish  their  destiny, — 
spreading  far  and  wide  ,ftie  great  principles  of  self- 
government^  and  who  shall  say  how  far  they  will  |  \ 
prosecute  the  work?" 

• 
Mingled  with  this  emotion  of  destiny  there  was 

evident  the  appeal  which  the  "West"  made  as  a 


86  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

land  of  opportunity.     A  bit  of  verse  appearing  in 
a  St.  Louis  paper  was  widely  reprinted  in  the  East : 

"COME  OUT  TO  THE  WEST/' 

"  Come  forth  from  your  cities,  come  out  to  the  West ; 
Ye  have  hearts,  ye  have  hands — leave  to  Nature  the  rest. 
The  prairie,  the  forest,  the  stream  at  command— 
'The  world  is  too   crowded !' — pshaw !   come   and   take 
land. 

"  Come  travel  the  mountain,  and  paddle  the  stream ; 
The  cabin  shall  smile,  and  the  corn-patch  shall  gleam; 
'A  wife  and  six  children?' — 'tis  wealth  in  your  hand! 
Your  ox  and  your  rifle — out  West  and  take  land!" 

Possibly  it  was  by  such  means  that  Martin  Chuz- 
zlewit  was  induced  to  buy  a  corner  lot  in  "Eden." 
The  West  had  cast  a  glamor  over  the  eyes  of  the 
nation,  and  the  greater  the  distance,  the  more  allur 
ing  the  prospect.  But  with  Oregon  secured,  and 
(  with  Texas  and  California  made  definitely  ours  in 
I  the  progress  of  the  war  with  Mexico,  Polk  was 
satisfied  and  hastened  the  peace  negotiations,  that 
the  fever  of  expansion  should  not  rise  too  high. 
The  Southern  leaders  were  accustomed  to  bewail 
the  fact  that  they  would  always  be  damned  in  his 
tory,  since  the  historical  writing  was  all  done  in 
New  England.  The  South  has  indeed  been  thus 
damned  for  the  annexation  of  Texas  and  the 
Mexican  War,  but  in  the  former  case 'alone  can  the 
slavery  interest  be  regarded  as  an  important  factor. 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY 


Manifest  destiny  was  the  one  great  leading  force  / 

in  the  war  with  Mexico. 

At  the  end_of  the  war,  except  for  the  extreme 
anti-slavery  faction,  there  was  united  glorification 
in  the  power,  and  in  the  territorial  greatness  of 
America.  The  emotion  of  manifest  destiny  wa£ 
at  its  height.  Foreign  observers  were  astounded 
by  the  national  self-confidence,  and  appalled  by  the 
actual  power  of  the  United  States.  Warburton, 
an  English  traveler,  arriving  in  America  "in  igno 
rance,"  as  he  himself  says,  went  away  astonished 
and  fearful. 

"We  cannot,"  he  writes,  "conceal  from  ourselves 
that  in  many  of  the  most  important  points  of 
national  capabilities  they  beat  us;  they  are  more 
energetic,  more  enterprising,  less  embarrassed  with 
class  interests,  less  burthened  by  the  legacy  of  debt. 
/  This  country,  as  a  field  for  increase  of  power,  is 
Lin  every  respect  so  infinitely  beyond  ours  that 
comparison  would  be  absurd."  .  .  .  All  things 
"combine  to  promise  them,  a  few  years  hence,  a 
degree  of  strength  which  may  endanger  the  existing 
state  of  things  in  the  world.  They  only  wait  for 
matured  power,  to  apply  the  incendiary  torch  of 
Republicanism  to  the  nations  of  ^Europe.  ? 

Warburton  overstates  American  desire  to  meddle 
in   European  affairs,   yet   he   expresses   American  } 
belief  in  the  contagious  qualities  of  the  ideal  of         ^ 
self-government.    Witness  our  enthusiasm  over  the 
European  revolutions  of  1848,  when  press,  pulpit, 


88  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

and  Congress  gave  credit  to  American  ideals  and 
institutions, — being  woefully  ignorant  of  the  many 
sources  of  the  most  confused  revolutionary  move 
ment  in  history.  Yet  there  is  a  touch  of  truth  in 
the  theory  that  the  prosperity  and  power  of 
America,  looked  upon  as  a  test  of  the  success  of 
her  democratic  institutions,  were  an  influence  in 
expanding  liberalism  in  Europe.  Perhaps  this  was 
our  most  grandiloquent  period.  Here  was  this  vast 
country, — its  riches  untold,  seaports  on  two  oceans, 
the  one  ideal  form  of  government,  and  possibilities 
of  power  beyond  telling.  After  the  absorption  of 
so  much  territory  in  so  short  a  time,  America 
summed  up  her  material  blessings  and  was  satis 
fied.  Q3ut  she  hoped  for  dominion  even  beyond 
material  things.  A  handful  of  people  as  compared 
with  the  great  powers  of  Europe,  ,she  arrogated  to 
erself  leadership  in  the  world  of  ideas,  and  pro 
sed  to  make  herself  respected  and  feared  in  the 
family  of  Nations.  Clay  best  expressed  it  in  1850, 
saying : 

"Our  country  has  grown  to  a  magnitude,  to  a 
power  and  greatness,  such  as  to  command  the 
respect,  if  it  does  not  awe  the  apprehensions  of  the 
powers  of  the  earth,  with  wnom  we  come  in 
contact." 

The  ebb  of  the  tide  of  expansion  craze  began 
with  the  acquisition  of  the  Pacific  ^Coast.  The 
discovery  of  gold  in  California  drew  in  a  new  direc- 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  89 

tion  the  bulk  of  that  adventurous  population  which 
had  heretofore  worried  our  neighbors.  Before  that 
discovery,  Polk,  in  1847,  had  advocated  a  waterway 
across  the  Isthmus  of  Panama,  and  Francis  Lieber 
urged  America  not  to  be  afraid  of  her  future,  and 
to  build  the  canal,  writing : 

"  Let  the  vastness  not  appal  us ; 
Greatness  is  thy  destiny. 
Let  the  doubters  not  recall  us  : 
Venture  suits  the  free." 

The  gold  rush  at  once  forced  into  prominence  the 
question  of  transit  by  the  Isthmus,  and  the  Clayton- 
Bulwer  treaty  was  signed  with  England,  looking 
toward  a  canal.  A  ten-years'  dispute  as  to  the 
interpretation  of  that  treaty  followed,  and  Central 
America  became  the  scene  of  a  new  "American 
movement,"  with  William  Walker,  the  "grey-eyed 
man  of  destiny,"  as  the  leading  actor  in  filibustering 
expeditions,  having  for  their  object  a  tropical 
expansion,  and  finding  favor  in  the  South.  Cuba 
also  was  an  objective,  but  all  this  aftermath  of  the 
expansion  craze  was  checked  by  the  political  exi 
gencies  of  the  dangerous  situation  within  the  United 
States,  when  the  Kansas-Nebraska  controversy 
arose. 

Meanwhile  Americans,  generally,  were  proudly 
conscious  of  power,  and  of  territorial  greatness,  and 
were  not  unduly  modest  in  expressing  this  con- 


90  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

sciousness.  Manifest  destiny  has  indeed  a  char 
acteristic  of  American  humor, — exaggeration.  The 
Englishman  defined  American  humor  as  "merely  a 
big  lie," — but  he  missed  the  fact  that,  to  the  Ameri 
can,  the  "big  lie"  was  never  quite  an  absolute 
-  impossibility.  It  was  thus  with  the  expression  of 
the  ideal  of  manifest  destiny, — the  bombast,  how 
ever  apparently  absurd,  was  never  wholly  insincere, 
though  it  was  tinctured  with  the  love  of  humorous 
exaggeration  for  its  own  sake.  This  puzzled  the 
English  observer  and  he  sometimes  took  American 
talk  at  its  face  value,  as  when  the  House  of  Lords 
solemnly  recorded  its  indignation  at  an  American 
proposal  to  repudiate  all  debts  to  foreign  nations, 
on  the  ground  that  such  creditors  were  fully  recom 
pensed  in  having  aided  in  the  spread  of  American 
civilization.  The  editorial  in  a  JDubuque,  Iowa, 
paper  that  inspired  this  British  protest  was  a  mere 
blatant  absurdity  and  the  editor  must  have  been 
gratified,  if  he  knew  of  it,  to  find  his  effort  per 
petuated  in  the  pages  of  Hansard's  Parliamentary 
Debates.  Charles  Dickens,  in  "Martin  Chuzzlewit," 
revelled  in  the  opportunity  to  caricature  our 
assumption  of  superiority,  and  of  the  all-pervading 
influence  of  our  institutions.  Martin,  under  the 
guidance  of  Colonel  Diver,  editor  of  the  New  York 
Rowdy  Journal,  has  made  the  acquaintance  of  sev 
eral  of  "the  most  remarkable  men  of  the  country, 
sir,"  and  has  been  astounded  by  their  youth.  At 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  91 

the  dinner  table  in  the  boarding  house,  he  is  equally 
astounded  to  learn  that  the  "little  girl,  like  a  doll," 
seated  opposite,  is  the  mother  of  two  children.  He 
expresses  his  wonder  to  Colonel  Diver,  who  replies, 
"Yes,  Sir,  but  some  institutions  develop  human 
nature;  others  re-tard  it."  More  serious  English 
writers,  accepting  American  estimate  of  the  power 
and  future  expansion  of  the  United  States,  struck 
the  note  of  "hands  across  the  sea,"  and  declared  a 
common  destiny  for  the  two  nations,  each  in  its  own 
field.  Charles  Mackay,  the  "Ayrshire  Poet,"  read 
at  a  banquet  in  Washington  a  poem  called  "John 
and  Jonathan,"  disclaiming  for  John  any  wish  to 
interfere  with  Jonathan's  destiny: 

"  Take  you  the  West  and  I  the  East, 

We'll  spread  ourselves  abroad, 
With  Trade  and  Spade,  and  wholesome  laws, 
And  faith  in  Man  and  God. 

"  Take  you  the  West  and  I  the  East, 

We  speak  the  self -same  tongue 
That  Milton  wrote  and  Chatham  spoke, 

And  Burns  and  Shakespeare  sung; 
And  from  our  tongue,  our  hand,  our  heart, 

Shall  countless  blessings  flow 
To  light  two  darkened  hemispheres 

That  know  not  where  they  go." 

The  Civil  War  put  a  sudden  end  to  the  clamor  for 
territorial  expansion.  The  purchase  of  Alaska,  in 
1867,  awoke  no  enthusiasm  in  American  hearts. 


92  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

It  was  generally  spoken  of  as  "Seward's  Folly,"  and 
regarded  as  a  recompense  to  Russia  for  her  friendly 
attitude  during  the  war.  For  thirty  years  America 
was  occupied  with  industrial  development,  satisfied 
to  retain  for  herself  the  blessing  of  her  institutions, 
with  no  inclination  to  confer  them  by  force  on  other 
nations.  Then  came  the  Spanish-American  war. 
Whatever  its  origin,  the  war  awoke  again,  but  only 
*  for  the  moment,  the  emotion  of  manifest  destiny. 
President  McKinley,  in  a  message  to  Congress,  fol 
lowing  the  cession  of  the  Philippines  by  Spain, 
expressed  the  national  sentiment: 

"The  war,"  he  said,  "has  brought  us  new  duties 
and  responsibilities  which  we  must  meet  and  dis 
charge  as  becomes  a  great  nation  on  whose  growth 
and  career  from  the  beginning  the  Ruler  of 
Nations  has  plainly  written  the  high  command  and 
pledge  of  civilization.  Incidental  to  our  tenure 
in  the  Philippines  is  the  commercial oppor 
tunity  to  which  American  statesmanship  cannotTbe 
indifferent." 

A  shrill  voice  from  the  East  protested,  but  these 
words  express  briefly  the  true  inwardness  of  mani 
fest  destiny  at  all  times  in  our  history.  Even  more 
briefly  put  they  might  be  condensed  to,  "God  directs 
us, — perhaps  it  will  pay." 

****** 

If,  in  this  lecture,  I  have  seemed  to  present  to 
you  an  ideal  simply  as  a  target  for  caricature  and 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  93 

ridicule,  I  shall  be  unfair  to  my  own  conception  of 
manifest  destiny  and  its  influence.  It  is  true  that, 
as  an  ideal  embracing  territorial  expansion,  I  have 
little  respect  for  it,  though  I  do  not  agree  with 
Lowell : 

"  Thet  all  this  big  talk  of  our  destinies 
Is  half  on  it  ign'ance  and  t'other  half  rum," 

for  it  can  not  be  denied  that  always  there  was 
present  a  spiritual  exaltation,  and  not  only  the 
assertion,  but  the  conviction  of  the  superiority  of 
American  institutions.  But  the  taint  of  sordid 
motives  was  there  too.  There  was  a  golden  ideal 
in  the  emotion,  but  there  was  also  an  alloy  of  baser 
metals.  This  criticism  should  not,  however,  lessen 
emphasis  upon  the  force  of  the  ideal  of  manifest 
destiny  in  American  history,  for  whatever  its 
origin,  or  however  used,  the  ideal  existed  of  and 
by  itself.  No  economic  basis  whatever  can  be 
found  for  it  after  the  annexation  of  Texas,  and 
even  in  that  instance,  the  emotion  played  as  great 
a  part  as  industrial  interests.  It  was  a  fever  in  the 
blood  that  steadily  rose,  and  was  allayed  only  by 
the  letting  of  blood. 

In  the  introduction  to  this  lecture  I  asserted  that 
the  westward  movement,  in  and  of  itself,  held  no 
conscious  ideal  of  a  continent-wide  destiny.  Set 
ting  aside  such  a  claim  for  that  movement,  there 
were,  then,  two  phases  of  manifest  destiny, — the 


94  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

earlier  expressing  merely  the  conviction  of  supe 
riority  in  our  form  of  government,  and  the  greater 
happiness  of  our  people ;  while  the  later  phase 
carried  with  this  belief  the  desire  for  new  territory, 
and  the  responsibility  of  imposing  upon  other 
nations  the  benefits  of  our  own.  Present-day  judg 
ment  repudiates  the  latter  view,  while  holding  firmly 
to  the  faith  in  our  institutions,  and  to  confidence  in 
our  future.  In  that  ideal  of  manifest  destiny, — a 
belief  in  our  institutions,  as  the  best  in  the  world 
adapted  to  secure  to  our  people  "life,  liberty,  and 
the  pursuit  of  happiness," — we  may  still  assert  our 
faith.  But  in  relation  to  those  nations  whose 
boundaries  touch  our  own,  or  in  whose  peace  and 
prosperity  we  have  an  interest,  let  us  agree  with 
Joseph  Gilder's  vision  of  the  duty  of  America: 

"  Be  thou  the  guardian  of  the  weak, 
Of  the  unfriended,  thou  the  friend; 

No  guerdon  for  thy  valor  seek, 
No  end  beyond  the  avowed  end 

Wouldst  thou  thy  godlike  power  preserve, 

Be  godlike  in  the  will  to  serve."  * 

*  From  Harper's  Weekly.     Copyright,  1900,  by  Harper 
&  Brothers. 


IV 
RELIGION— A  SERVICE 


IV 
RELIGION— A  SERVICE 

Unlike  other  ideals,  religious  conviction  in  the 
nineteenth  century  has  not  found  expression  in 
any  one  distinct  movement,  nor  in  any  one  period. 
It  is  rather  a  diffused  force  working  in  and  through 
all  other  forces, — and  thus  difficult  to  isolate. 
Naturally  and  necessarily,  I  turn  to  church  move 
ments,  and  to  the  activities  of  the  clergy,  for  illus 
tration,  yet  it  is  the  custom  and  conduct  of  the 
people,  rather  than  the  leadership  of  the  pulpit,  that 
is  vital. 

In  early  colonial  times  church  and  state  were  so 
interwoven  that  religious  expression  and  creeds 
were  an  essential  part  of  citizenship.  But  with  the 
spread  of  the  principle  of  freedom  of  conscience, 
taking  form  in  the  separation  of  church  and  state, 
religion  came  to  be  regarded  as  something  apart 
from  the  political  life  of  the  nation,  and  the  pulpit 
as  largely  restricted  from  leadership  in  political 
action.  This  was  an  inevitable  swing  back  of  the 
pendulum  from  the  point  of  clerical  domination. 
The  pulpit  emphasized  creed  and  dogma,  devoting 
its  mental  energy  to  these  topics,  and  paying  little 
attention  to  acute  questions  of  the  day.  The  force 
of  the  clergy,  in  the  affairs  of  state,  disappeared, 


98  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

while  to  every  church  member  the  essential  thing 
became  the  personal  satisfaction  derived  from  an 
accepted  relation  with  God,  looking  toward  happi 
ness  and  perfection  in  a  future  life.  This  is  not 
to  say  that  conduct  and  character  were  neglected, 
nor  that  the  broad  term  morality  was  divorced  from 
civic  duties.  On  the  contrary,  every  religious- 
minded  man  sought  to  support  his  civic  action  by 
a  reference  to  moral  principles.  Washington,  in 
his  farewell  address,  said,  "I  hold  the  maxim  no 
less  applicable  to  public  than  to  private  affairs,  that 
honesty  is  always  the  best  policy,"  and  again,  he 
stated,  "Virtue  or  morality  is  a  necessary  spring 
of  popular  government."  But  Washington  would 
have  been  the  last  to  acknowledge  religious  dogma 
as  a  complete  guide  to  civic  duty.  The  reaction 
from  religious  despotism  was  excessive.  Wash 
ington  Irving,  writing  of  the  Puritan  treatment  of 
the  Indians,  has  said,  "They  [the  Indians]  were 
sober,  frugal,  continent,  and  faithful  to  their  word, 
but  though  they  acted  right  habitually,  it  was  all  in 
vain  unless  they  acted  so  by  precept."  The  power 
of  precept  was  still  predominant  in  religion,  but 
by  the  eighteenth  century  it  had  come  to  be  limited 
to  a  profession  of  faith,  and  an  observance  of  cus 
tomary  religious  exercises.  Neither  pulpit  nor 
people  sought  anxiously  any  longer  for  the  expres 
sion  of  their  religious  convictions  in  civic  life.  To 
nations  where  church  and  state  still  held  a  relation 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  99 

which  America  had  discarded,  the  decay  of  prac 
tical  morality  in  America  seemed  inevitable.     Such\ 
nations  observed  with  scorn  what  seemed  to  them  \ 
an   irreconcilable   contradiction   between   the   keen  1 
business  instincts  of  the  Yankee,  and  his  profes-   I 
sions  of  religion.     One  of  the  oldest  British  jibes/ 
at   America   pictures    the    Yankee    storekeeper   as 
instructing   his   clerk,   preparing   for   the   business 
of  the  morrow,  to  "sand  the  sugar,  flour  the  ginger, 
lard  the  butter,  and  then  come  in  to  prayers." 

In  summarizing  American  religion  in  the  eight 
eenth  century,  the  church  historian,  Prof.  Williston 
Walker,  asserts  that  century  to  have  been  more 
barren  than  any  other  in  our  history,  stating  that 
the  older  devotion  and  the  "sense  of  a  national 
mission"  were  gone,  and  that  everywhere,  while 
religious  services  were  still  largely  attended,  this 
attendance  was  due  to  habit  and  to  respect  for 
external  formality.  This  being  true,  the  natural 
prelude  to  a  revival  of  the  force  of  religion  in 
national  life  was  a  revolt  from  the  despotism  of 
dogma,  and  from  the  dwarfing  influence  of  un 
changing  creeds.  The  period  was  one  of  idealism 
for  individual  liberty  stated  in  terms  of  Jeffersonian 
democracy.  More  than  a  century  and  a  half  earlier 
the  argument  of  Thomas  Hooker  for  a  democratic 
form  of  government  in  both  church  and  state,  was 
"embodied  in  January,  1639,  in  the  fundamental 
laws  or  first  constitution  of  Connecticut." 


100  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

"The  foundation  of  authority  is  laid  in  the  free 
consent  of  the  people.  The  choice  of  the  people's 
magistrates  belongs  to  the  people  of  God's  own 
allowance.  They  who  have  the  power  to  appoint 
magistrates  have  also  the  right  to  place  bonds  and 
limitations  on  the  power  and  place  unto  which  they 
call  them." 

This  was  no  declaration  of  individual  liberty  within 

the  church,  but,  by  1800,  the  democracy  of  church 

|  organization — independence  of  the  authority  of  a 

I  church  hierarchy — had  paved  the  way  for  liberty 

;  of    conscience.      This    latter    ideal    was    closely 

related,  intellectually,  to  the  ideals  of  Jeifersonian 

democracy. 

The  most  definite  form  in  which  individual  reli 
gious  liberty  now  expressed  itself  was  Unitarian- 
ism,  with  Channing  as  its  prophet.  Dr.  Samuel 
Eliot  has  recently  defined  the  fundamental  prin 
ciple  of  Unitarianism  as  "freedom  as  the  way,  and 
character  as  the  test  of  religion."  This,  in  sub 
stance,  was  the  essence  of  JefTersOnian  democracy, 
also.  In  examining  the  origins  of  both  Unita 
rianism  and  democracy,  one  is' struck  by  the  simi 
larity  of  the  terms  employed,  as,  for  example,  the 
"sovereign  citizen"  and  the  "sovereign  soul."  A 
basic  principle  in  both  movements  was  a  belief  in 
the  natural  instinct  of  man  toward  good,  rather 
than  evil.  Thus  the  protest  of  Unitarianism 
against  the  doctrine  of  natural  depravity,  taken  in 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  101 

connection  with  the  assertion  of  individual  liberty, 
made  the  Unitarian  movement  seem  a  part, — even 
a  manifestation,  of  the  nation-wide  tendency  in 
political  thought.  To  foreign  observers,  especially 
those  from  England,  seeking  causes  and  foretelling 
results,  it  seemed  a  foregone  conclusion  that 
Unitarianism  was  to  be  the  religion  of  America.  , 

Thomas  Jefferson  himself  identified  liberty  in  } 
political  and  in  religious  faith.  "Priests,"  using  the 
term  in  the  sense  of  a  clergy  claiming  authority 
to  determine  creeds,  Jefferson  classified  with 
"despots."  "Sweep  away,"  he  wrote,  "their  gossa 
mer  fabrics  of  factitious  religion,  and  they 
[priests]  would  catch  no  more  flies,"  and  he  fully 
believed  in  the  future  of  Unitarianism.  Thus  he 
said: 

"The  pure  and  simple  unity  of  the  creator  of  the 
universe,  is  now  all  but  ascendant  in  the  Eastern 
States;  it  is  dawning  in  the  West,  and  advancing 
toward  the  South ;  and  I  confidently  expect  that  the 
present  generation  will  see  Unitarianism  become  the 
general  religion  of  the  United  States."  Again,  he 
said :  "I  trust  there  is  not  a  young  man  now  living 
in  the  United  States  who  will  not  die  an  Unitarian/^ 

I  have  no  intention  of  dilating  upon  religious  con 
troversies,  nor  of  examining  in  detail  the  actual 
extent  and  influence  of  the  Unitarian  faith  per  se. 
We  are  all  aware  that  Unitarian  church  organiza 
tion  did  not  spread  as  Jefferson  prophesied,  and 


102  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

indeed,  that  such  organization  was  largely  limited 
to  a  small  section  of  New  England.  There  are 
those  who  claim  that  the  Unitarian  tenet,  "liberty," 
is  today  a  characteristic  of  all  Protestant  churches, 
and  that  in  this  respect  Unitarian  faith  has  become 
a  national  faith.  They  assert  that  Bushnell  con 
tributed  to  Congregationalism  that  individual  liberty 
which  Channing  had  proclaimed.  But  with  this 
question  I  have  no  concern.  All  that  I  would  here 
indicate  is  that  the  sense  of  "liberty" — of  breaking 
away  from  old  traditions — was  expressed  at  once, 
both  in  religion  and  in  political  theory.  Nor  were 
the  religious  leaders  unconscious  of  this.  Channing 
expressed  it  for  himself  in  a  line,  when  in  1830, 
distressed  by  the  indifference  of  the  young  men 
of  Harvard  to  the  French  revolution  of  that  year, 
he  recalled  his  own  emotions  in  the  earlier  French 
revolution,  and  exclaimed  that  he  was  "always 
young  for  liberty." 

Just  as  liberty  in  religion  was  contemporary  with 
the  ideal  of  liberty  through  democracy,  so  the 
wonderful  outburst  of  national  church  organiza 
tions,  and  of  humanitarian  societies,  was  contem 
porary  with  the  outburst  of  the  ideal  of  nationality. 
It  has  been  stated  in  a  previous  lecture  that  the 
ideal  of  nationality  flowered  in  1815,  thereafter 
steadily  developing.  Before  1815  there  had  been 
sporadic  missionary  and  humanitarian  effort  by 
isolated  churches,  but  only  one  effort  on  a  large 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  103 

scale  and  that  wholly  altruistic  rather  than  national. 
This  was  the  American  Board  of  Foreign  Missions 
founded  in  1810.  But  with  the  new  sense  of 
nationality  came  the  vision  of  national  religious 
effort.  In  1816  the  American  Bible  Society,  pre 
viously  a  local  organization,  was  expanded  into  a 
national  society.  In  1824=  came  the  Sunday  School 
Union;  in  1825  the  American  Tract  Society;  1826 
saw  the  organization  of  the  Home  Missionary 
Society,  and  of  the  American  Temperance  Society. 
In  1828  an  American  Peace  Society  brought 
together  in  one  national  organization  various  local 
societies,  among  which  was  that  of  New  York 
founded  in  1815  by  David  Low  Dodge.  By  1830 
this  national  religious  movement  was  in  full  swing, 
though  later  years  were  to  witness  a  marvelous 
expansion. 

Here,  then,  as  in  the  case  of  Unitarianism,  reli 
gious  expression  coincided  in  its  ideals  with  other 
national  ideals.  Yet  judged  by  the  sermons  of  the 
clergy,  religion  in  America,  .while  democratic  in 
organization,  while  sharing  in  the  ideal  of  personal 
liberty,  and  while  participating  in  the  ideal  of 
nationality,  was  still  largely  dominated  by  the  theory 
that  it  was  something  distinct  and  apart  from 
active  life, — a  theory,  in  short,  which  emphasized 
a  future  life  at  the  expense  of  the  present.  The 
pulpit  still  dwelt,  to  the  exclusion  of  applied  reli 
gion,  upon  the  personal  relation  with  God,  with 


104  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

personal  salvation  as  its  object.  I  do  not  wish  to 
overemphasize  this,  but  such  study  as  I  have  been 
able  to  give  to  the  period  from  1830  to  1850  has 
convinced  me  that  formal  religion  did  not  then 
lead  in  the  world  of  ideals,  nor  even  in  the  true 
moral  purpose  of  a  people  eagerly  seeking  spiritual 
growth. 

This  conservatism  of  the  pulpit  might  be  illus 
trated  by  quotations  from  many  sermons  in  which 
it  was  sought  to  combat  all  tendencies  to  the  new 
either  in  theology  or  in  religious  expression,  while 
the  real  business  of  the  churches  was  asserted  to 
be  strictly  limited  to  keeping  alive  man's  conscious 
ness  of  his  spiritual  relation  to  God.  I  do  not 
suppose  that  today  the  parents  of  the  young  man 
about  to  enter  college  give  him  as  a  parting  present 
Todd's  "Students  Manual," — a  very  wise,  and  a 
very  practical  guide  to  conduct, — but  in  the  period 
of  which  I  write,  and  long  after,  it  was  a  frequent 
gift.  Now  the  Rev.  John  Todd  was  a  noted  clergy 
man,  and  one  might  expect  after  reading  his 
"Students  Manual"  that  he,  at  least,  would  have 
appreciated  the  opportunity  offered  to  the  pulpit  for 
leadership  in  those  new  manifestations  of  moral 
consciousness  animating  the  nation.  Yet  in  1833 
he  preached  a  sermon,  entitled  "The  Pulpit. — Its 
Influence  upon  Society,"  which  so  clearly  epitomizes 
the  attitude  of  the  bulk  of  the  Protestant  clergy  that 
I  cannot  refrain  from  citing  at  least  the  heads  of 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  105 

his  discourse.  The  central  thread  of  the  sermon 
is  that  the  chief  service  of  the  pulpit  is  confined  to 
teaching  man's  relation  to  God,  personal  piety,  and 
the  hope  of  a  future  life,  but  in  expanding  this 
thought  the  preacher  stated  the  function  of  the 
pulpit  in  specific  fields:  Firstly,  the  pulpit  acts  as 
the  preserver  of  the  Christian  Sabbath,  and  incul 
cates  a  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures.  Secondly,  the 
pulpit  emphasizes  the  personal  relation  between  God 
and  man,  and  especially  tends  to  convince  man  that 
God's  eye  is  constantly  upon  him,  judging  his 
actions.  Thirdly,  the  pulpit  provides  the  best  type 
of  education  for  the  youth  of  the  land.  Here  the 
preacher  referred  to  that  education  pursued  in  the 
pastor's  study  by  boys  preparing  for  college,  and 
he  strongly  opposed  the  system  of  high  schools 
then  springing  up  in  New  England,  stating  that  the 
proposed  specialization  of  a  teaching  profession 
"would  have  one  capital  deficiency.  They  [the 
teachers]  would  understand  human  nature  only  as 
seen  in  the  language  and  the  history  of  the  dead, 
and  as  seen  in  books."  Fourthly,  the  pulpit  pre 
serves  and  makes  proper  use  of  the  art  of  eloquence. 
Fifthly,  the  pulpit  more  than  any  other  institution 
performs  the  service  of  "calling  man  into  social, 
national,  and  religious  existence."  I  would  that 
the  preacher  had  expanded  his  fifthly  into  many 
sermons,  but  he  was  content  with  a  generalization 
in  the  briefest  of  all  his  "heads,"  and  in  conclusion 


106  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

he  reiterated  the  prevailing  thought  throughout, — 
the  duty  of  the  pulpit  to  interpret  and  perpetuate 
religious  faith  expressed  in  creed,  that  church 
members,  obedient  in  conduct  to  such  creed,  might 
share  in  a  future  life  of  holiness  and  bliss.  His 
concluding  words,  apostrophizing  the  service  of  the 
pulpit  and  the  church,  were : 

"Here  may  our  children  and  our  children's  chil 
dren,  to  the  latest  posterity,  come  and  be  taught  the 
way  of  eternal  life.  .  .  .  When  our  heads  are  pil 
lowed  in  the  grave,  and  others  have  followed  us 
here  and  rilled  these  seats  and  retired,  when  these 
walls  shall  have  crumbled  to  the  dust,  .  .  .  may 
they,  and  we,  all  meet  to  rejoice  together  forever 
and  forever." 

We  also  believe  that  religion  necessarily  must 
emphasize  future  life,  and  that  the  source  of  all 
moral  motive,  all  high  ideals,  all  humanitarian 
effort,  all  progress,  rests  in  such  a  belief.  All  that 
I  would  here  indicate  is  that  one's  personal  salva 
tion,  to  be  secured  by  an  acceptance  of  a  faith,  was 
still  emphasized  in  this  period,  to  the  sacrifice  of 
religious  service  in  this  life.  The  egotism  of 
religious  conviction  still  overshadowed  its  altruism. 
If  we  examine  the  columns  of  the  newspapers 
from  1830  to  1840,  we  will  find  a  curious  evidence, 
in  the  advertisements  of  books  on  religion,  of  the 
persistence  of  the  extreme  Puritan  attitude  and 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  107 

language.  In  the  National  Intelligencer  for  July 
10,  1838,  there  appears  the  following: 

"JAMES'S  ANXIOUS  ENQUIRER" 

"The  anxious  Enquirer  after  Salvation.  Directed 
and  Encouraged,  by  John  Angell  James,  new 
edition.  Price  50  cents." 

The  same  thought,  and  the  same  relation  of  church 
member  and  pastor,  is  indicated  in  this  advertise 
ment  as  in  the  sermon  of  the  Rev.  John  Todd. 
Soon,  however,  the  ideal  of  democracy  would  for 
bid  to  the  clergy  such  superior  authority.  Oliver 
Wendell  Holmes,  though  with  a  different  meaning, 
puts  in  a  nut-shell  the  equality  of  priest  and  layman, 
when,  describing  the  visit  of  the  divinity  student 
to  the  sick  chamber  of  the  cripple,  he  wrote : 

"  'Shall  I  pray  with  you  ?'  said  the  student ;  a 
little  before  he  would  have  said,  'Shall  I  pray  for 
you?"1 

The  relation  of  the  ideals  of  democracy  and  of 
religious  expression  has  frequently  been  commented 
upon  by  historians,  when  comparing  the  appearance 
of  Jacksonian,  as  distinguished  from  Jeffersonian, 
democracy,  with  the  rapid  growth  in  the  West  of 
the  Methodist  and  Baptist  denominations,  for  the 
members  of  these  churches  were  drawn  to  them, 


108  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

in  part,  by  a  common  equality  of  industrial  and 
intellectual  simplicity.  But  more  important  than 
this,  in  an  analysis  of  the  force  of  the  ideal  of 
religion,  is  the  renewal  of  contact  between  religious 
observance  and  everyday  life,  It  was  in  the  West, 
and  in  all  denominations,  that  the  churches  began 
to  resume  a  spiritual  leadership  in  the  intimate 
affairs  of  the  nation.  An  English  Congregational 
clergyman,  visiting  America  in  1833,  was  startled 
in  Cincinnati  on  witnessing  a  Fourth  of  July  cele 
bration  in  which  the  trade  organizations  of  the  city 
marched  with  banners  and  cheering  to  the  church, 
under  Lyman  Beecher's  pastorate,  listened  to  a 
brief  patriotic  sermon  and  then  entered  on  the  cus 
tomary  celebration  of  Independence  Day.  He 
described  the  scene  as  an  "extraordinary  mixture 
of  the  secular  and  the  spiritual ;  and  it  was  a  ques 
tion  whether  the  tendency  was  not  to  make  religion 
worldly,  rather  than  the  worldly  religious."  But 
on  reflection  he  concluded  that  the  Western 
preacher  was  in  the  right,  stating  "Our  true  wis 
dom,  in  consulting  the  good  of  the  people,  lies,  not 
in  excluding  their  secular  concerns  and  pleasures 
from  religion,  but  in  diffusing  religion  through  the 
whole  of  them." 

In  the  West  there  was  indeed  a  greater  intimacy 
between  pulpit  and  people,  a  closer  contact  between 
church  and  civic  society  than  existed  in  the  East. 
In  the  West  there  had  now  developed,  also,  a  reli- 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  109 

gious  movement  intimately  related  to,  and  vitally 
affecting,  national  ideals.  Initiated  when  the  ideal 
of  nationality  began  to  grip  American  sentiment, 
Home  Missions  passed  through  a  period  of  slow 
development  until,  about  1840,  the  opening  of  new 
and  easier  routes  had  brought  a  rapid  increase  of 
Western  population.  The  Eastern  churches,  espe 
cially  those  of  New  England,  responded  to  the  call 
of  Home  Missions  for  aid  in  carrying  the  religious 
ideals  of  the  East  to  this  new  Western  land.  The 
burden  of  that  call  was  that  the  West  must  be 
made  one  with  the  East  in  religious  faith  and  life, 
thus  emphasizing  still  the  primary  object  of  pre 
serving  the  ancient  doctrines  of  the  churches.  But 
in  the  hearts  of  young  men  this  call  was  effective, 
and  consciously  so,  because  of  an  enthusiasm  for  "\ 
the  ideal  of  nationality,  while,  though  unconsciously 
at  first,  the  ideal  of  active  service  in  everyday 
living  was  forced  upon  the  Home  Missionary 
preacher,  by  the  very  conditions  of  his  participation 
in  the  westward  movement.  If  I  were  here  to 
follow  the  method  previously  used  in  these  lectures, 
and  seek  illustrations  in  the  history  of  Yale  College, 
and  its  inspirations,  there  would  be  no  lack  of  great 
names  and  great  enterprises  to  record.  Yale  was 
one  of  the  two  main  sources  of  this  religious  cru 
sade.  But,  born  and  educated  in  a  state  where  I 
have  not  merely  read,  but  know,  the  characteristics 
and  influence  of  Home  Missions,  I  turn  for  illus- 


110  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

tration  to  that  other  main  spring  of  Home  Mis 
sionary  effort,  Andover  Theological  Seminary,  and 
to  that  group  of  young  ministers  leaving  its  halls, 
the  Iowa  Band,  whose  history,  as  has  been  well 
said,  portrays  "the  romance  of  home  missions." 
Let  me  tell,  very  briefly,  what  the  Iowa  Band  was 
and  what  it  did. 

At  Andover,  in  the  spring  of  1843,  three  young 
theological  students  were  attracted  by  the  idea  of 
working  together  and  in  some  new  field.  Looking 
over  the  ground  they  hit  upon  Iowa  as  practically 
virgin  soil,  and  as  graduation  approached,  their 
number  had  increased  to  eleven,  animated  by  the 
inspiration  of  united  religious  service.  On  October 
4,  1843,  ten  of  them  began  the  journey  west,  travel 
ing  by  rail  to  Buffalo,  thence  by  the  lakes  to 
Chicago,  and  then  in  wagons  to  the  Mississippi, 
which  they  crossed  in  a  canoe  on  October  23, — a 
total  journey  of  nineteen  days.  From  the  six  mis 
sionaries  already  in  Iowa,  they  received  a  hearty 
welcome.  Iowa  was  then  a  territory,  the  first  white 
settlement  dating  but  ten  years  earlier,  in  1833.  The 
only  portion  of  the  territory  open  to  settlement  was 
a  strip  about  forty  miles  wide  and  two  hundred 
miles  long,  bordering  on  the  Mississippi.  The 
population  in  1840  was  42,500,  of  whom  not  over 
2,000  were  professing  Christians.  Here  the  Iowa 
Band  was  to  labor,  and  it  is  of  interest  to  note  that, 
undecided  when  leaving  Andover  as  to  church 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  111 

organization,  they  almost  immediately  determined 
upon  the  Congregational  form,  as  best  adapted  to 
the  democratic  instincts  of  a  frontier  community. 
It  was  not  an  easy  task  these  young  ministers, 
reared  in  cultured  Eastern  families,  and  trained  in 
Eastern  college  halls,  found  facing  them.  A  com 
plete  and  rapid  readjustment  of  the  whole  ministe 
rial  point  of  view  was  necessary.  One  of  them  had 
thought  out  his  plan  of  living  in  advance.  "I  am 
going  to  Iowa,"  he  said,  "and,  when  I  get  there,  I 
am  going  to  have  my  study  and  library.  Then  I 
am  going  to  write  two  sermons  a  week;  and,  when 
the  Sabbath  comes,  I  am  going  to  preach  them,  and 
the  people,  if  they  want  the  gospel,  must  come  to 
hear."  His  first  home  was  in  a  Christian  house 
hold  where  there  was  but  one  living  room,  in  a 
corner  of  which,  partitioned  by  a  quilt,  he  found  his 
study  and  bedroom;  and  his  study  chair  was  a 
saddle,  for  he  had  to  seek  his  hearers,  not  they 
him.  Travel  was  on  foot  or  horseback,  by  Indian 
trails  or  blazed  trees.  It  was  a  rude  awakening 
from  the  dream  of  a  settled  pastorate.  All  expe 
rienced  it,  were  dismayed  at  first,  then  took  courage 
and  soon  rejoiced  in  the  very  crudity  of  a  life 
offering  opportunity  to  initiative  and  enterprise. 
They  even  commiserated  their  friends  in  the  East 
for  the  quiet  and  humdrum  character  of  their 
lives.  Also  they  asserted  that  by  environment  they 
were  "compelled  to  grow  in  mental  strength,  energy, 


112  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

breadth  of  views  and  high  Christian  aims."  In 
answer  to  the  argument  of  deprivation  from  the 
"privileges  of  refined  society,"  they  replied:  "In 
your  refined  society,  so-called,  there  is  much  that 
is  artificial,  formal,  and  sometimes  hollow.  We 
have  learned  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  being 
civilized  and  refined  almost  to  death."  The  writer 
of  these  words,  perhaps  the  most  gentle  and 
courteous  member  of  the  band,  unconsciously 
reflected  the  very  essence  of  the  ideal  qualities  of 
democracy  in  the  westward  movement.  Religion 
was  renewing  its  vigor  in  this  new  nation  of  the 
West. 

One  can  easily  picture  the  joys  of  these  young 
men  in  the  opportunities  of  this  young  state.  They 
were  to  mould  Iowa  in  Christianity  and  they 
labored  even  to  the  limits  of  strength.  The  wife 
of  one  member,  fragile,  never  suited  physically  to 
the  hardships  of  frontier  life,  when  urged  to  limit 
her  exertions,  answered,  "Somebody  must  be  built 
into  these  foundations," — and  this  saying  became 
almost  a  text  for  those  who  survived  her.  The 
great  object  was  to  establish  churches,  and  one 
historian  has  written  "no  equal  number  of  young 
ministers,  leaving  a  theological  seminary  together, 
ever  founded  so  many  churches  in  five  or  ten  years 
after  their  graduation  as  these  men."  But  they 
felt  equally  the  call  of  education,  and  even  before 
leaving  Andover  one  had  said,  "If  each  one  of  us 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  113 

can  only  plant  one  good  permanent  church,  and  all 
together  build  a  college,  what  a  work  that  would 
be."  Less  than  six  months  after  the  Band  reached 
Iowa,  a  ministers'  meeting  was  called  to  discuss 
the  founding  of  a  college,  and  already  imbued  with 
Western  enterprise,  it  was  proposed  to  locate  public 
lands,  "boom"  a  college  town,  and  thus  provide  the 
institution  with  funds.  Eastern  support  was  urged 
and  denied  for  this  real-estate  enterprise,  so  the 
more  cautious  policy  was  followed  of  soliciting 
funds  sufficient  actually  to  start  a  college.  By 
1846,  three  years  after  reaching  Iowa,  a  small  fund 
having  been  raised,  a  college  organization  was  per 
fected,  one  of  the  would-be  land  boomers  putting 
a  dollar  on  the  table,  saying,  "Now  appoint  your 
trustees  to  take  care  of  that  dollar  for  Iowa  Col 
lege."  In  1848  the  college  was  established  at 
Davenport,  with  one  building  costing  $2000.  In 
1859  it  was  removed  to  a  more  central  location  at 
Grinnell,  and,  participating  in  the  industrial  devel 
opment  of  the  state,  has  become  one  of  its 
strongest  educational  institutions. 

It  is  impossible  to  do  more  than  indicate  in  out-  • 
line  the  influence  of  this  home  missionary  move-  .' 
ment  in  Iowa,  stirred  into  vigor  by  the  Band,  and 
exercising  a   moral   influence   on   every   aspect   of.' 
religious,    social   and   political   life.      To    all    later' 
workers  in  Iowa  home  missions,  the  Band  set  the 
standard  of  fearlessness  in  applying  their  religion 


114  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

to  political  issues.  When  they  arrived  in  1843,  the 
agitation  for  statehood  was  just  coming  to  the 
front,  and  soon  the  question  of  slavery  was  up  for 
discussion  in  the  territorial  legislature.  In  the  three 
years  before  statehood  came,  these  young  ministers 
boldly  preached  their  faith  in  anti-slavery, — one  of 
them  had  been,  indeed,  a  member  of  that  boys' 
abolition  society  which  resulted  in  expulsion  from 
Phillips  Andover  Academy.  In  the  lecture  on  anti- 
slavery,  I  referred  to  a  statement  made  by  a  speaker 
at  the  recent  Historical  Association  meeting  in 
Boston  to  the  effect  that  in  the  years  preceding  the 
Civil  War,  pulpit  utterances  and  church  sentiment 
were  opposed  to  the  anti-slavery  agitation.  As  to 
pulpit  utterances  available  for  study  in  the  sermons 
of  noted  preachers,  I  have  no  comprehensive  knowl 
edge,  but  it  would  be  an  error  in  historical  investi 
gation  to  take  the  sermons  of  noted  preachers  as 
proof  of  the  attitude  of  the  bulk  of  the  clergy, — 
the  preachers  in  the  small  country  church.  One 
might  get  the  impression  from  the  card  catalogue 
of  Yale  library  that  all  the  ministers  of  New  Eng 
land  always  printed  all  of  their  sermons.  But  this 
was  not  so  in  the  West,  and  for  Congregationalism 
in  Iowa, — the  dominating  and  all-powerful  home 
missionary  religious  influence  in  that  state, — I  know 
that  the  whole  tradition  of  the  state  asserts  the 
moulding  force  of  the  country  pastors  in  the  anti- 
slavery  agitation.  For  written  proof  of  this  tradi- 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  115 

tion  the  historical  investigator  has  but  to  turn  to 
the  minutes  and  resolutions  of  the  annual  asso 
ciation  of  the  Congregational  churches.  There  he 
will  find,  each  year,  resolutions  adopted  urging  the 
ministers  to  attack  intemperance,  slavery,  the 
Mexican  War,  national  disruption  threats,  and  like 
subjects.  Religion,  in  this  westward  movement, 
did  dare  to  apply  to  civic  questions  its  ideals  of 
moral  conduct.  Of  one  member  of  the  Iowa  Band, 
whose  glory  it  was  that  in  his  old  age  he  was 
known  as  "Father"  to  the  people  of  Iowa,  it  was 
said,  "no  man,  living  or  dead,  has  done  more  for 
Iowa  than  this  good  man." 

The  story  of  the  Iowa  Band  is  exceptional, 
because  of  its  romantic  inception,  and  vigorous 
labors  in  stirring  times.  It  is,  however,  but  one 
illustration  of  the  great  wave  of  home  missionary 
energy  expended  in  the  new  Western  states,  and  I 
have  told  the  story  badly  if  it  has  not  been  made 
clear  that  here  was  a  new  attitude  and  a  new 
emphasis  in  religious  expression.  Possibly,  rather, 
I  should  term  it  a  renewed  attitude  and  emphasis. 
The  home  missionaries  did  not  alter  their  creeds, — 
indeed,  they  often  went  out  purposely  to  comba_t 
religious  vagaries  in  creed.  But  they  broke 
through  the  barrier  that  had  separated  the  pulpit 
from  the  pew,  prayed  with  their  people,  shared  in 
their  emotions  and  their  ideals.  This  was  the  new 
attitude.  The  new  emphasis  lay  in  the  placing  of 


116  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

service  above  pulpit  instruction.  It  came  unsought, 
perhaps  even  unwelcomed,  and  was  still  largely 
unrecognized  as  the  highest  ideal  of  religion.  But 
the  germ  of  it  sprouted  in  home  missions. 

This  great  religious  movement  was  continued 
with  energy  up  to  the  Civil  War,  and  religion-  fur 
nished  moral  ideals  preparatory  for  the  part  the 
West  was  to  play  in  that  war.  During  its  progress 
the  pulpit  everywhere  again  produced  great  spiritual 
leaders,  inspired  by  national  and  moral  ideals.  War, 
it  is  claimed,  always  brings  to  the  anxious  watchers 
in  the  home  a  revival  of  religious  emotion.  What 
ever  the  merits  of  this  generalization,  it  is  certain 
that  during  the  Civil  War,  in  both  North  and 
South,  such  a  revival  did  occur,  and  that  the  pulpit 
renewed  its  vigor  in  spiritual  leadership.  I  have  not 
time  even  to  enumerate  the  famous  preachers  of  this 
day,  and  in  illustration  name  but  two,  both  of  whom 
struck  their  highest  note  in  expressing  the  ideal 
of  nationality.  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  an  eloquent 
and  stirring  pulpit  orator,  a  moral  guide  to  his 
people,  was  sent  to  England  in  1863  to  proclaim  the 
ideals  of  anti-slavery  and  nationality  for  which 
the  North  was  struggling.  Thomas  Starr  King, 
whose  name  is  still  foremost  in  California  as  her 
"preacher  patriot,"  by  his  enthusiasm  and  oratory 
in  the  crisis  of  1861,  impressed  upon  the  state  the 
indelible  stamp  of  his  spiritual  leadership.  He  felt 
with  all  his  soul  the  cause  for  the  Union.  Not  a 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  117 

vigorous  man,  physically,  he  persisted  in  his  labors 
in  spite  of  the  entreaties  of  friends,  avowing  that 
he  had  "enlisted  for  the  war,"  and  he  did  not  sur 
vive  to  see  its  conclusion.  These  men,  and  many 
others,  illustrate  an  unusual  pulpit  leadership  in  an 
unusual  emergency.  Theyjused  religion  as  a  force  Uzi^ 
in  sup2ort,qf_thejdeal  of  nationality^  "~  t"/f\ 

Like  illustrations  of  the  intensity  of  religious* 
feeling  and  patriotism  might  be  given  for  the 
South,  though  not  from  the  lips  of  equally  re 
nowned  preachers.  The  South  also  believed  in  the 
moral  justice  of  its  cause.  But  when  the  war  had 
ended  there  came  over  the  spirit  of  the  reunited 
nation  a  sense  of  lethargy  in  ideals,  whatever  their 
nature.  Nationality  was  reestablished,  but  for  other 
causes  there  was  little  enthusiasm.  This  was 
partly  due  to  the  exhaustion  of  emotion  in  the  war, 
partly  to  the  pressing  necessity  for  industrial 
recuperation.  For  a  time  anti-slavery  sentiment, 
fearing  a  virtual  renewal  of  Southern  slavery  by 
labor  laws,  was  kept  alive  in  the  reconstruction 
troubles.  But  by  1875,  when  it  was  seen  that  the 
South  had  no  intention  of  reenslaving  the  negro, 
this  ideal  had  waned  also.  The  centennial  cele 
bration  of  1876  was  the  occasion  of  much  patriotic 
writing,  expressing  devout  thankfulness  for  the 
mercies  of  Providence  to  America,  and  voicing 
faith  in  divine  guidance.  In  his  Centennial  Hymn, 
Whittier  wrote : 


118  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

"  Our  fathers'  God !  from  out  whose  hand 
The  centuries  fall  like  grains  of  sand, 
We  meet  to-day,  united,  free, 
And  loyal  to  our  land  and  Thee, 
To  thank  Thee  for  the  era  done, 
And  trust  Thee  for  the  opening  one. 
***** 

"  Oh  make  Thou  us,  through  centuries  long, 
In  peace  secure,  in  justice  strong; 
Around  our  gift  of  freedom  draw 
The  safeguards  of  Thy  righteous  law; 
And,  cast  in  some  diviner  mould, 
Let  the  new  cycle  shame  the  old." 

But  such  faith  and  hope  lacked  living  stimulus. 
The  nation  was  apparently  without  ideals,  save 
those  of  industrial  progress.  Religion  shared  in 
this  apathy,,  spending  its  energy  in  seizing  what  it 
could  of  the  tide  of  national  prosperity,  erecting 
splendid  church  edifices,  and,  as  the  close  personal 
contact  of  the  pioneer  days  was  lost  in  the  growth 
of  towns  and  cities,  retreating  to  the  stronghold 
of  religious  dogma.  But  creeds  no  longer  satisfied 
the  ideals  of  the  spirit.  There  was  no  living  interest 
in  them, — no  demand  for  a  change  of  articles  of 
faith.  This  was  so  much  true  that  today  we  find 
it  difficult  to  understand  the  heart-searchings,  and 
the  doctrinal  disputes  that  enlivened  colonial  times, 
and  even  the  earlier  nineteenth  century.  Creeds, 
it  is  often  said,  are  the  product  of  both  religious 
thought  and  religious  feeling,  and  the  time  had 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  119 

now  come  in  America  when  the  appeal  of  religion 
as  a  system  of  thought  had  lost  its  force. 

The  pulpit  was  the  first  to  recover  from  this 
stagnant  period  in  American  idealism.  Searching 
its  own  heart,  and  eager  for  a  restored  influence, 
it  turned  to  that  second  element  of  religious  life, 
never  wholly  lacking,  but  long  overshadowed  by 
doctrinal  dispute, — the  religious  feeling  of  man 
kind, — the  inherent  necessity  in  every  man's  soul 
of  expressing  his  sense  of  a  relationship  to  a  divine 
being,  and  a  divine  purpose.  Up  to  this  point  I 
have  sought  to  trace  the  force  of  religion  in  America 
in  terms  limited  to  Protestant  faith  and  Protestant 
expression,  and  this  is  historically  correct,  for  that 
faith  alone  had  an  intimate  relationship  to  the  other 
American  ideals  of  the  times.  Other  faiths  had 
meanwhile  gained  adherents,  notably  Catholicism, 
but  had  been  compelled  to  struggle  for  a  right  to 
exist,  against  the  Protestant  traditions,  and  had 
spent  their  energies  in  that  contest.  But  Protestant 
prejudice,  roused  to  extreme  intolerance  in  the 
so-called  "Know  Nothing"  political  movement  of 
the  fifties,  seeking  to  damn  as  "un-American"  all 
other  faiths,  had  fought  and  lost  its  battle.  Free 
dom  of  conscience,  in  whatever  faith,  had 
triumphed,  and  all  faiths  now  shared  in  the  new 
endeavor  to  reanimate  religion,  placing  a  minor 
emphasis  on  an  accepted  system  of  religious 
thought,  and  appealing  directly  to  the  sense,  or 


120  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

feeling  of  religion.  Thus  seeking  for  a  restored 
influence,  the  pulpit,  of  whatever  denomination  or 
creed,  offered  service  by  man  to  man.  This  was 
not  a  new  offering;  it  had  always  been  present  in 
religious  teaching,  but  it  was  now  given  a  place 
never  before  known  in  American  history. 

Let  us  review,  briefly,  the  force  of  religion  in 
our  national  ideals  in  the  nineteenth  century.  It 
has  been  noted  that  democratic  political  institu 
tions  followed  after,  and  were  partly  derived  from 
democratic  church  organization.  Xheri  came  the 
parallel  development  in  church  and  state,  of  the 
ideals  of  personal  liberty,  each  operating  inde 
pendently,  yet  each  influencing  the  other.  Next, 
followed  the  ^religious  participation  in  nationality, 
both  inspired  by  it,  and  contributing  to  it, — and 
later  sharing  as  well  in  the  ideals  of  anti-slavery 
and  manifest  destiny.  In  all  of  these  ideals,  reli 
gious  conviction  was  present,  and  in  some  it  led. 

The  purpose,  and  the  limits  of  this  lecture, 
devoted  to  the  force  of  the  ideal  of  religion,  have 
not  permitted  me  to  dilate  upon  the  changing 
aspects  of  the  American  theory  of  religion,  but 
throughout,  and  in  the  summary  just  made,  I  have 
at  least  hinted  at  what  I  conceive  these  changes  to 
have  been,  and  to  what  conclusions  they  have  now 
been  brought.  In  my  view,  the  religious  instinct 
of  mankind,  during  the  nineteenth  century  in 
America,  has  been  struggling  to  escape  from  the 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  121 

thrall  of  dogmatic  theology,  while  an  American 
ideal  of  religion  was  fortunately  preserved  by  the 
participation  of  religion  in  the  advance  of  democ 
racy  and  nationality.  But  it  is  only  today  that  we 
see  clearly  what  has  been  the  meaning  of  this 
century-long  struggle, — what  is,  in  truth,  the 
essence  of  American  religion.  I  find  it  best  stated 
in  the  words  of  an  English  Roman  Catholic, 
William  Barry,  though  in  some  minor  phrases,  one 
can  not  agree.  He  writes : 

"Americans  once  believed  with  shuddering  in 
man's  total  depravity,  from  which  only  the  small 
number  of  the  elect  were  redeemed.  They  now 
believe  that  man  is  by  nature  good,  by  destiny  per 
fect,"  and  quite  capable  of  saving  himself.  But  in 
a  sort  of  'ideal  America'  they  recognize  the  motive 
power  of  this  more  humane  life  toward  which  they 
ought  ceaselessly  to  be  tending.  The  Common 
wealth  is  their  goal,  business  their  way  to  heaven, 
progress  their  duty,  free  competition  their  method. 
Mystery,  obedience,  self-denial  are  repugnant  to 
them.  But  they  admire  self-discipline  when  it 
rejects  what  is  beneath  man's  dignity,  or,  in  defer 
ence  to  a  fine  idea,  practices  temperance.  They 
are  a  breed  of  heroes  rather  than  ascetics;"  .  .  . 
To  the  American  "The  Divine  Power  is  his  Friend, 
not  his  Fate;  and  his  belief  in  human  nature  as 
something  of  intrinsic  value,  to  be  made  perfect 
hereafter,  is  the  free  acceptance  of  a  Divine  Idea 
which  it  is  man's  duty  to  realize.  Thus  civilization 
and  Religion  are  but  different  facets  of  the  same 
glory." 


122  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

The  full  significance  of  this,  the  author's  conclusion 
of  his  remarkable  essay  on  "The  Religion  of 
America,"  can  not  be  fully  grasped  in  a  single 
reading.  In  this  lecture  I  have  attempted  to 
indicate  historically  the  persistence  throughout  of 
the  two  basic  truths  in  American  religion, — faith 
in  a  Divine  Idea,  and  a  sense  of  duty  to  realize  that 
idea, — expressing  itself  today  in  terms  of  humanity 
and  service. 

In  the  field  of  civic  life  and  responsibility  the 
ideal  of  religion  was  the  first  among  American 
ideals  to  renew  its  vigor  after  the  Civil  War.  It 
blazed  the  path  guiding  the  nation  to  that  sense 
of  humanity  which  is  today  its  highest  ideal. 
There  are  those  who  still  assert  the  decadence  of 
religion  as  a  force  in  American  life.  If  I  read  his 
tory  aright,  it  has  always.. been  a  forcet  and  in  the 
last  forty  years  has  led  men  to  a  new  and  higher 
moral  and  civic  consciousness.  Whence  came  the 
wonderful  modern  development  of  societies  and 
movements  seeking  to  better  the  physical  condition 
and  enlarge  the  spiritual  horizon  of  one's  fellow 
men  ?  From  what  initial  energy  sprang  the  settle 
ment  centers,  self-help  clubs,  charitable  societies, 
mission  chapels,  night  schools,  Christian  associa 
tions,  and  all  the  rest  of  that  long  list  of  organi 
zations  rejoicing  in  service  ?  From  pulpit  leadership 
and  from  religious  feeling.  One  great  recognized 
ideal  of  America  today  is  service,  and  it  is  an  active 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  123 

force,  everywhere  that  thoughtful  and  spiritual- 
minded  men  work,  in  the  professions,  in  business, 
in  labor,  in  politics.  Whatever  the  alleged  vagaries 
or  reactions  of  political  parties,  however  distrustful 
one  political  leader  may  be  of  the  sincerity  of 
another,  the  fact  remains  that  all  parties  and  all 
leaders  today  claim  an  ideal  quality  for  their  poli 
cies,  all  assert  that  they  would  serve  their  fellow 
men,  and  all  are  truly  animated  by  higher  moral 
and  political  standards.  The  pulpit  initiated  the 
modern  expression  of  this  ideal;  it  met  instant  and 
ever  increasing  response  in  the  nation's  religious 
instincts ;  today  service  is  the  keynote  of  American 
religion. 

"  O  land  of  hope !  thy  future  years 

Are  shrouded  from  our  mortal  sight; 
But  thou  canst  turn  the  century's  fears 
To  heralds  of  a  cloudless  light! 
***** 

"  O  Spirit  of  immortal  truth, 

Thy  power  alone  that  circles  all 
Can  feed  the  fire  as  in  its  youth — 
Can  hold  the  runners  lest  they  fall  !"* 

If  churches,  with  spire,  a  church  bell,  and  a  per 
manent  pastor,  alone  indicate  the  proportion  of 
the  people  influenced  by  religious  motive,  it  may 
be  that  religion  has  not  kept  pace  with  national 

*  "After  the  Centennial,"  by  Christopher  Pearce  Cranch. 


124  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

growth.  I  have  made  no  comparison  of  statistics. 
But  the  instinct  and  the  practice  of  service  is  first 
and  always  based  on  a  sense  of  religion, — on  a 
faith  in  divine  purpose  and  in  immortality.  With 
out  this  faith, — driven  to  pessimism  by  the  meagre 
results  of  the  labors  of  one  short  life, — they  would 
be  few  indeed  who  would  follow  the  banner  of 
service.  But  it  is  not  the  few  today  in  America 
who  follow  that  banner.  The  leaders  are  many,  and 
the  army  is  a  multitude.  Religion  is  still  a  National 
ideal.  And  in  conclusion  I  venture  a  quotation, 
possibly  become  a  commonplace  to  you  here  at  Yale, 
but  read  with  inspiration  by  one  to  whom  it  was 
unfamiliar,  as  embodying  for  us  who  constitute  the 
rank  and  file  of  this  army,  the  ideal  of  religion  in 
service.  On  the  tomb  of  Elihu  Yale,  in  Wrexham 
Church  Yard,  North  Wales,  are  these  lines: 

"  Born  in  America,  in  Europe  bred, 
In  Africa  travell'd,  and  in  Asia  wed, 
Where  long  he  liv'd  and  thriv'd;  in  London  dead. 
Much  good,  some  ill,  he  did;  so  hope  all's  even, 
And  that  his  soul  thro'  mercys  gone  to  Heavn. 
You  that  survive  and  read  this  tale,  take  care, 
For  this  most  certain  exit  to  prepare : 
Where  blest  in  peace,  the  actions  of  the  just 
Smell  sweet,  and  blossom  in  the  silent  dust." 


V 
DEMOCRACY— A  VISION 


V 
DEMOCRACY— A  VISION 

Whereas  in  discussing  other  ideals,  it  has  seemed 
necessary  to  prove  their  existence  and  force,  in  the 
present    case    both    may    be    taken    for    granted. 
Democracy,  as  a  powerful  ideal,  is  acknowledged  < 
by  all  to  have  been  a  steady  force  in  our  history  for  j 
over  a  hundred  years,  and  is  still  a  term  of  national 
inspiration.     Mr.  Justice  Hughes,  in  his  lectures 
on  the  Dodge  Foundation  in  1909,  said : 

"His  study  of  history  and  of  the  institutions  of 
his  country  has  been  to  little  purpose  if  the  college 
man  has  not  caught  the  vision  of  Democracy  and 
has  not  been  joined  by  the  troth  of  heart  and  con 
science  to  the  great  human  brotherhood  which  is 
working  out  its  destiny  in  this  land  of  opportunity." 

The  power  of  this  ideal,  I  therefore  take  for 
granted.  I  ask  your  attention  rather  to  the 
meaning  of  Democracy  as  an  American  vision, 
seeking  to  note  the  changing  aspects  of  that  vision, 
and  the  conditions  of  such  change. 

The  sources  of  the  theory  of  democracy, — its: 
origins,  are  to  be  found  in  religious  faiths,  and  j 
in  America  church  organization  paved  the  way  for 


128  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

the  application  of  the  theory  to  government^  But 
alFlT^ultyilie"  tfre^ 

quate  expression  amongst  us  in  the  writings  of 
Thomas  Paine.  The  appeal  made  by  his  works 
was  due  to  a  remarkable  combination  of  clear  state 
ment,  vigorous  and  attractive  writing,  and  a  deduc 
tion  from  which  there  was  no  escape — provided  one 
granted  his  premises.  Just  arrived  from  England, 
he  published  in  1776  his  pamphlet  "Common 
Sense."  It  attracted  instant  attention,  and  120,000 
copies  were  sold  in  less  than  three  months.  His 
biographer,  Cheetham,  seeking  constantly  to  belittle 
Paine's  influence,  yet  says  of  "Common  Sense": 

"Speaking  a  language  which  the  colonists  had 
felt  but  not  thought,  its  popularity,  terrible  in  its 
consequences  to  the  parent  country,  was  unex 
ampled  in  the  history  of  the  press." 

Long  afterwards,  Edmund  Randolph  analyzed 
Paine's  influence  as  due  to  "an  imagination  which 
happily  combined  political  topics,"  to  a  style  new  on 
this  side  the  Atlantic,  and  to  sentiments  already 
germinating  in  American  hearts.  In  1790,  having 
returned  to  England,  Paine  wrote  "The  Rights  of 
t  Man"  in  answer  to  Burke  on  the  French  revolution. 
Again  he  displayed  a  wonderful  capacity  to  unite 
\ideals  and  close  logic.  In  these  two  books  Paine 
was  then  the  first  to  state  the  ideal  of  democracy, 
as  it  later  came  to  be  accepted  in  America  under 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  129 

\ 
the   leadership   of   Jefferson,   though   the   political  \ 

beliefs  of  the  latter  were  independently  developed  / 
and  can  not  be  ascribed  directly  to  the  influence  of  j 
Paine's  writings. 

The  patriotic  orator  fondly  ascribes  to  the 
Declaration  of  Independence  the  ideals  of  democ 
racy,  rinding  them  in  the  phrases : 

"We  hold  these  truths  to  be  self-evident,  that  all 
men  are  created  equal;  that  they  are  endowed  by      ^ 
their  Creator  with  certain  unalienable  rights;  that 
among  these  are  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of 
happiness." 

The  men  who  signed  that  declaration,  however, 
were  far  from  intending  a  profession  of  faith  either 
in  the  absolute  equality  of  mankind,  or  even  in  the 
equality  of  political  rights.  If  they  had  sought  at 
all  to  elucidate  their  meaning,  they  would  have 
stated  it  in  terms  of  equality  before  the  law.  Not 
even  Jefferson  was  prepared  for  human  equality. 
The  declaration  was  rather,  as  it  has  been  aptly 
characterized,  a  campaign  document,  setting  forth 
certain  attractive  generalities  intended  to  arouse 
popular  support,  and  enumerating  specific  griev 
ances  against  King  George  III.  The  vital  demo 
cratic  sentiment  of  America  was  not  aroused,  in 
fact,  until  at  least  twenty  years  after  the  Declara-  [ 
tion  of  Independence,  and  the  one  principle  of  that 
earlier  platform,  then  elevated  to  the  dignity  of  a 


130  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

creed,  was  that  of  "liberty,"  with  Jefferson  as  its 
high  priest. 

Ever  since  1800  the  name  of  Thomas  Jefferson 
has  been  associated  with  democracy,  both  as  an 
ideal  in  itself,  and  as  an  ideal  form  of  government. 
What  then  was  his  vision  of  democracy?  It  was 
simply  a  faith  in  personal  liberty  as  the  highest 
guiding  principle  in  the  progress  of  civilization. 
This  was  the  center  and  sum  of  his  entire  phi 
losophy.  His  purpose  was,  always  and  ever,  to 
guard  the  libertyj)f  the  individual.  He  had  no  vital 
conception  of  the  force  of  those  other  catch-words 
of  the  French  revolution, — "equality,"  and  "frater 
nity."  Contrary  to  the  accusations  of  his  political 
opponents,  he  was  not  a  disciple  of  French  phi 
losophy,  though  his  residence  in  France,  and  his 
habit  of  mind,  gave  him  a  clear  view  of  the  inner 
meaning  of  the  French  revolution,  and  made  him 
tolerant  of  its  crudities.  This,  then,  being  his 
vision  of  democracy,  he  found  in  popular  sover 
eignty  and  the  rule  of  the  majority,  the  govern 
mental  principles  most  likely  to  secure  the  ideal 
of  personal  liberty. 

This  vision,  and  this  medium  of  realization,  are 
constantly  reiterated  in  all  that  Jefferson  wrote,  or 
said,  or  did.  Yet  Jefferson's  writings,  frequently 
spoken  of  as  if  they  constituted  volumes  of  a  care 
fully  organized  philosophy,  are,  in  fact,  save  for 
one  book  and  a  few  state  papers,  merely  a  collection 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  131 

of  his  thirty  thousand  private  letters.  The  book 
is  his  "Notes  on  Virginia,"  while  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  two  inaugural  addresses,  and  several 
state  papers  make  up  the  sum  of  his  formal  writing. 
Nevertheless  it  is  not  inaccurate  to  speak  of  the 
influence  of  Jefferson's  writings,  for  in  truth  they 
have  been  a  greater  force  in  American  political 
thinking  than  all  the  publications  of  all  the  other 
presidents  combined,  simply  because  he  set  up  the 
one  single  ideal  of  liberty  in  government  and  in 
religion,  and  never  wavering  from  it  in  theory 
(though  at  times  inconsistent  in  practice),  con 
stantly  drove  it  home  in  intimate  talk  and  corre 
spondence.  Jefferson  prided  himself  on  the  fear 
lessness  of  his  thought,  stating  that  he  "never 
feared  to  follow  truth  and  reason,  to  whatever 
results  they  led,  and  bearding  every  authority  which: 
stood  in  their  way,"  but  he  rarely  put  that  thought 
into  formal  writing.  At  his  first  inauguration, 
however,  March  4,  1801,  he  stated  his  principles. 
Pleading  for  good  temper  and  conciliation  in 
political  controversies,  which  he  contended  were 
but  ephemeral  matters,  he  turned  to  liberty  as  the} 
one  desirable  object  of  all  government.  This,  he 
said,  is  to  be  secured  by  "absolute  acquiescence  in  N  ^ 
the  decisions  of  the  majority,  the  vital  principle  of 
republics,  from  which  there  is  no  appeal  but  to 
force,  the  vital  principle  and  immediate  parent  of 
despotism." 


132  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

I  suppose  that  today  nine  tenths  of  those  who 
talk  of  Jeffersonian  democracy,  postulate  the  Jeffer- 
sonian  theory  in  terms  of  their  own  conceptions. 
Men  once  talked  of  "natural  rights," — and  ascribed 
to  nature  their  own  mental  visions.  Just  so,  today, 
men  attribute  to  Jefferson  their  own  ideals  of 
I democracy.  But  to  Jefferson,  let  it  be  repeated,  the 
;  object  of  government  was  to  secure  the  liberty  of 
the  individual,  the  only  side  of  the  prism  which  he 
saw  clearly, — and  democratic  government  was  to 
him  but  the  best  method  of  realizing  that  ideal. 
Such  government  was  not  to  him  a  perfect  thing 
in  itself,  was  not  an  Utopia.  I  have  just  quoted 
his  words  on  the  rule  of  majorities,  but  these  did 
not  imply  Jefferson's  belief  that  the  decision  of 
the  majority  was  necessarily  right.  To  believe  that, 
is  to  believe  in  democracy  as  Utopia.  In  this  same 
inaugural  address  he  said: 

"All  too  will  bear  in  mind  this  sacred  principle, 
that  though  the  will  of  the  majority  is  in  all  cases 
to  prevail,  that  will,  to  be  rightful  must  be  reason 
able;  that  the  minority  possess  their  equal  rights 
which  equal  laws  must  protect,  and  to  violate  which 
would  be  oppression." 

John  Fiske  has  compressed  Jefferson's  theory  of 
government  into  the  statement  that  he  had  "strong 
faith  in  the  teachableness  of  the  great  mass  of  the 
people."  Such  faith  implies  a  belief  in  the  wisdom 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  133 

of  universal  suffrage,  but  this  is  not  at  all  to  believe 
that  "the  voice  of  the  people  is  the  voice  of  God." 
And  Jefferson  himself  indicated  democratic  govern 
ment  as  merely  a  form  preferable  to  other  forms, 
when  he  stated: 

"Sometimes  it  is  said,  that  man  cannot  be  trusted 
with  the  government  of  himself.  Can  he  then  be 
trusted  with  the  government  of  others?  Or,  have 
we  found  angels  in  the  form  of  kings  to  govern 
him?  Let  history  answer  this  question." 

Jefferson's  vision  of  democracy  was  of  one  ideal — 
liberty,  and  of  a  form  of  government  which,  judged 
by  history,  not  by  any  theory  of  natural  right,  was 
best  suited  to  that  ideal.  If  I  have  been  unduly 
repetitious  in  stating  this,  let  the  excuse  be  the  later 
error,  that  Jefferson  proposed  to  find  an  Utopia  in 
democracy. 

Opposed  to  the  theory  that  democracy  was  the 
handservant  of  liberty,  there  existed,  in  1800,  a 
sincere  belief  with  some,  that  aristocratic  govern 
ment,  or  the  government  of  the  wise,  was  to  be 
preferred,  in  the  cause  of  this  same  liberty.  The 
political  success  of  Jefferson  seemed  to  mark  a 
backward  rather  than  a  forward  step.  Fisher 
Ames  said  in  1803 : 

"Our  country  is  too  big  for  Union,  too  sordid  for 
patriotism,  too  democratic  for  liberty.  ...  Its 


134  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

vice   will  govern   it  by  practising  upon   its   folly. 
This  is  ordained  for  democracies." 

But  in  spite  of  prophecies  of  evil  the  nation  found 
inspiration  in  Jefferson's  theories,  and  from  his 
time  on,  has  held  them  as  a  faith.  New  attributes 
were  added  in  the  popular  mind,  and  that  of 
equality,  at  least  of  equality  of  opportunity,  soon  ' 
came  to  exercise  a  more  powerful  influence  in  sup 
port  of  the  ideal,  than  that  of  liberty.  America 
had,  indeed,  a  very  confused  notion  of  what  it  meant 
in  acclaiming  democracy.  Nationality,  special  des 
tiny,  religious  and  political  liberty,  equality  of 
opportunity,  industrial  prosperity,  were  all  jumbled 
in  the  idealization  of  that  democracy  which 
America  alone  was  held  to  possess.  To  most 
foreign  visitors  about  1830,  America  seemed  to  have 
gone  mad  in  a  craze  for  democracy,  as  necessarily 
the  wisest  and  best  type  of  government.  Captain 
Hall  summed  up  his  argument  against  this  faith 
by  citing  a  part  of  the  thirty-eighth  chapter  of  the 
Book  of  Ecclesiasticus,  in  the  Apocrypha,  beginning, 

"The  wisdom  of  a  learned  man  cometh  by  oppor 
tunity  of  leisure;  and  he  that  hath  little  business 
shall  become  wise." 

"How  can  he  get  wisdom  that  holdeth  the  plough, 
and  that  glorieth  in  the  goad?  That  driveth  oxen, 
and  is  occupied  in  their  labours,  and  whose  talk  is 
of  bullocks?" 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  135 

This  thought  is  always  a  common  one  to  con 
servative  and  cultivated  men,  who  exalt  good 
administration  as  the  end  of  all  government.  The 
answer  for  democracy  is  that  even  though  there 
be  a  poorer  administration  and  a  seeming  slower 
progress  (though  this  is  usually  denied),  the  free 
dom  of  a  democratic  government  from  violent / 
upheavals, — its  safety-valve  qualities, — make_it  in/ 
the  long~fun  the  superior  medium  of  development. 
But  the  American  people  of  1830  did  not  content 
themselves  with  any  such  defense  of  democracy. 
Jacksonian  democracy  clamorously  proclaimed  its 
faith,  and  sincerely  believed  that  in  the  election  of 
its  hero,  the  nation  has  been  torn  from  the  control 
of  an  aristocratic  and  moneyed  class.  Webster 
wrote  of  Jackson's  inauguration :  "I  never  saw  such 
a  crowd  before.  .  .  .  They  really  seem  to  think  that 
the  country  is  rescued  from  some  dreadful  danger." 
Sumner,  the  unsympathetic  biographer  of  Jackson, 
says  of  the  election  of  1828,  that  it  seemed  truly 
to  many  Democrats,  a  rising  of  the  people  "in  their 
might  to  overthrow  an  extravagant,  corrupt,  aris 
tocratic,  federalist  administration,  which  had 
encroached  on  the  liberties  of  the  people,"  yet 
history  adjudges  the  preceding  administration  of 
John  Quincy  Adams,  as  one  of  the  purest, 
politically,  ever  known  to  us. 

I  attempt  no  examination  of  the  many  rivulets 
of  interests  and  emotions  that  merged  in  the  great 


136  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

stream  of  this  new  democratic  vision.     All  that  I 
can  do  here  is  to  name  a  few  of  the  larger  tribu 
taries,  i  The  bulk  of  Jackson's  support  came  from 
the  West,  where  equality  had  long  existed,  and  from  j 
the  Eastern  cities,  where  it  was  desired.    The  new 
Democratic   party,    casting   off   the   supremacy   of 
intellectual  leadership  in  the  old,  was  a  "poor  man's    \ 
party" — as  Schouler  has  described  it.     The  belief 
was  widespread  that  an  aristocracy  had  ruled  this 
nation  and  that  its  support  of  democracy  was  but 
a  false  profession  to  delude  the  people.    The  West 
asserted  that  equality  of  opportunity  in  occupying 
public  lands  was  denied  it  by  the  East.    There  was 
everywhere  a  spirit  of  revolt  from  tradition  and) 
authority.    These  were  a  few  of  the  main  sources        t 
of  the  new  democracy.    But  running  through  each     / 
and  all  of  these  was  a  new  vision  of  democracy,— -I/ 
an  assertion  that  the  people  had  never  yet  fuledf 
themselves,  that  they  were  now  to  do  so,  that  this! 
rule  of  the  average  man  necessarily  must  result  I 
not  merely  in  better,  but  in  a  perfect  government,  i 
The   ideals   of   Jeffersonian   democracy   were   pri) 
marily  political.     Those  of  Jacksonian  democracy 
were  both  political  and  social,  and  in  the  newer, 
America,   professing   allegiance   to   equality,   came 
closer  to  the   French  conception  of   democracy, — 
stated  in  terms  of  "liberty,  equality,  and  fraternity," 
though  to  the  majority  of  men,  fraternity  held  but 
a  vague  meaning,  since  it  seemed  uncalled  for  in 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  137 

*i* 

this  "land  of  opportunity."  Jeffersonian  democracy 
held  no  thesis  of  social  perfection.  The  new 
democracy,  though  sprouting  from  the  older,  was 
less  an  emergence  than  a  new  birth,  for  it  elevated 
the  form  of  government  to  an  ideal  that  would 
assure  both  political  and  social  Utopia. 

After  1840,  except  for  a  few  protesting  voices, 
this  new  conception  of  the  destiny  of  democracy 
was  well-nigh  universal  in  American  life.    America 
swelled  with  pride  in  the  belief  that  she  alone  had  \ 
solved    the    problem    of    human    happiness    under) 
government,  and  that  she  led  the  world  in  ideals/ 
As    immigrants    from    foreign    lands,    driven    by 
hunger   in   Ireland   or   by   political    oppression   in 
Germany,   poured   into   the   country,   America   ex 
panded  the  vision  of  her  democracy  into  a  haven 
of  refuge,  where  all  the  races  of  the  world  might 
share  in  her  peace  and  prosperity.    Bryant's  poem, 
"Oh  Mother  of  a  Mighty  Race,"  expressed  this 
vision : 

"  There's  freedom  at  thy  gates  and  rest 
For  earth's  down-trodden  and  opprest, 
A  shelter  for  the  hunted  head, 
For  the  starved  laborer  toil  and  bread. 

Power,  at  thy  bounds, 
Stops  and  calls  back  his  baffled  hounds." 

Whenever  a  people  rejoice  in  the  conviction  that   \ 
they  are  a  favored  people,  occupying  the  summit  of 


138  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

civilization,  they  are  inspired  by  their  very  supe 
riority  to  show  their  preeminence  in  every  possible 
way.  The  period  of  the  forties,  says  Commons  in  his 
History  of  American  Industrial  Society,  was  that 
in  which  American  fads  and  reforms  ran  riot.  In 
every  city  there  were  weekly  meetings  of  societies 
advocating  anti-slavery,  temperance,  graham  bread, 
prison  reform,  woman's  suffrage,  dress  reform, 
"diffusion  of  bloomers,"  spiritualism,  land  re 
form, — while  Brook  Farm,  Mormonism,  Owenism 
attracted  less  numerous,  but  equally  enthusiastic 
followers.  "It  was,"  he  asserts,  "the  golden  age 
of  the  talk-fest,  the  lyceum,  the  brotherhood  of 
man, — the  'hot  air'  period  of  American  history." 
But  we  should  also  note  that  it  was  the  period  of 
an  outburst  of  intellectual  and  spiritual  ideals  of 
permanent  force  and  value.  American  literature, 
for  example,  flowered  in  the  forties,  in  the  new 
sense  of  American  nationality  and  idealism.  Spo 
radic  and  temporary  reform  movements  always 
appear  in  the  whirlpool  of  a  new  national  enthu 
siasm.  Gradually  the  froth  disappears,  while  the 
deep  current  moves  on.  For  a  time  manifest  des 
tiny  was  at  the  surface,  then  anti-slavery  replaced 
it,  while  far  down,  more  dense  in  volume,  lay  the 
sense  of  nationality  and  religion,  permeated  with 
an  ideal  vision  of  democracy. 

In  the  first  lecture  of  this  series,  I  stated  that  it 
was  the  ideal  of  nationality,  which  stood  suddenly 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  139 

revealed  in  all  its  power,  by  the  attack  on  Fort 
Sumter,  uniting  the  North.  But  in  the  Civil  War, 
though  less  clearly  recognized,  there  was  also  a 
cpnflict  between  two  ideals  oi_  democracy.  We  in 
America  under stoocT  this  but^ dimly,  while  to  the 
interested  English  observer  it  seemed  very  clear. 
The  South  held  the  theory  of  a  democracy  of  wise 
-me.!!,  that  is,  in  practice,  of  an  intellectual  ari£- 
tocracy, — directly  opposed  to  the  Northern  ideal  ojf 
a  government  of  average  men.  Also  America  had 
so  boasted  its  superiority  in  governmenPthaf  the| 
"mere  disruption  of  the  Union  seemed  to  deny  thd 
efficacy  of  democratic  institutions.  The  crisis  in 
America  was  thus  of  intense  interest  to  English 
men  in  its  relation  to  their  own  problems  of  political 
organization,  for  just  as  the  war  began,  the  pressure 
of  a  reform  party,  largely  basing  its  arguments  on 
the  success  of  democracy  in  America,  was  beginning 
to  threaten  the  supremacy  of  an  aristocratic  govern 
ment,  not  altered  since  the  Reform  Bill  of  1832. 
Thus  Englishmen  had  a  domestic  political  interest 
in  our  struggle,  defended  their  views  according  to 
that  interest,  and  clearly  expressed  their  sense  that 
"democracy  was  on  trial."  At  first  confident  that 
the  North  could  never  conquer  the  South,  aristo 
cratic  sentiment  was  later  made  anxious  by  the 
campaigns  on  the  Mississippi,  and  when  the  news 
came  that  Sherman  had  reached  the  sea  at  Savan 
nah,  the  editor  of  the  London  Times,  Delane,  fore- 


140  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

seeing  the  victory  of  the  North,  and  dreading  the 
influence  on  English  politics,  wrote  to  the  prime 
minister,  Palmerston,  "The  American  news  is  a 
heavy  blow  to  us  as  well  as  to  the  South."  Lord 
Acton,  clinging  to  the  vision  of  a  government  of 
the  wise,  wrote,  "I  broke  my  heart  over  the  sur 
render  of  Lee."  On  the  other  hand,  John  Bright, 
radical  advocate  of  a  British  expansion  of  the 
franchise,  deserted  his  seat  in  parliament  to  tour 
the  country,  seeking  to  arouse  sympathy  with  the 
North,  and  picturing  the  struggle  in  America  as  one 
which  involved  the  future  of  the  democratic  prin 
ciple.  He  appealed  especially  to  the  starving  cotton 
operatives  of  Lancashire,  and  they  gave  evidence  of 
their  faith  by  refraining  from  a  turbulence  that 
might  have  encouraged  the  English  government  to 
interfere  on  the  side  of  the  South.  Karl  Marx 
labored  among  the  workmen  of  London  for  like 
reasons.  The  personality  of  Lincoln  soon  assumed 
to  Englishmen  the  significance  of  a  political  demon 
stration.  If  a  man  sprung  from  the  crudest  sur-^ 
roundings,  with  no  education,  no  heritage  of; 
administrative  powers,  uncouth  in  appearance, 
hitherto  unskilled  in  the  conduct  of  affairs  of  state, 
could  guide  a  nation  safely  through  the  stress  of  a 
civil  war,  then  indeed  democracy  would  have  provecL 
its  value.  So  at  least  argued  English  observers. 
To  the  English  governing  classes,  Lincoln, — the  real 
Lincoln, — was  a  myth.  English  credulity  could  not 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  141 

go  so  far  as  to  accept,  or  comprehend,  such  a  man. 
Punch,  in  numerous  cartoons,  exhibited  him,  first 
as  the  incompetent  fool  striving  to  be  a  man,  later, 
when  his  strength  became  clear,  as  a  despot  crush 
ing  the  liberties  of  America.  But  when  our  soldiers 
North  and  South,  after  Lee's  surrender,  hastened  to 
resume  their  former  occupations,  prophecies  of  a 
military  despotism  were  set  at  naught,  the  force  of 
the  ideal  of  democracy  was  fully  recognized,  and 
Lincoln  came  to  be  regarded  as  its  highest,  its 
marvelous  demonstration.  Four  lines  of  Tom 
Taylor's  beautiful  poem  in  Punch, — his  recantation 
for  four  years  of  injustice  to  Lincoln, — sum  up  the 
new  British  comprehension : 

"  Yes,  he  had  lived  to  shame  me  from  my  sneer, 
To  lame  my  pencil,  and  confute  my  pen — 
To  make  me  own  this  hind  of  princes  peer, 
This  rail  splitter  a  true  born  King  of  men." 

England  believed,  then,  what  we  did  not  clearly 
understand,  that  the  war  was  a  contest  between  two 
differing  ideals  of  democracy,  and  involved  the  fate 
of  the  democratic  form  of  government  as  well.  As 
to  the  last,  I  think  England  unduly  magnified  the 
possible  results  of  the  conflict.  Our  very  lack  of 
any  feeling  that  democratic  government  was  at 
stake  is  evidence  of  its  complete  obsession  amongst 
us.  Both  during  and  after  the  war  we  simply  took 
democracy  for  granted,  and  rested  secure  in  the 


142  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

faith   that   our   form   of   government,    a   divinely 
ordained  machine,  would  correct  all  evils. 

All  ideals  shared  in  the  intellectual  and  moral 
lethargy  of  the  next  period,  and  politics,  in  which 
ideals  find  their  most  far-reaching  expression,  fell, 
by  the  neglect  of  the  duties  of  citizenship,  into  the 
hands  of  men  not  representative  of  a  living  democ 
racy.  The  "boss,"  to  the  dismay  of  America, 
assumed  a  power  and  proportions  hitherto  un 
known,  but  we  were  long  in  waking  to"  his  real 
significance  in  the  theory  of  democracy.  Still 
enthralled  with  the  vision  of  democracy  as  Utopia, 
where,  without  effort  in  citizenship,  the  mere  accept 
ance  of  a  right  theory  of  government  must  work 
right,  America  merely  smiled  at  Lowell's  epigram 
on  "The  Boss" : 

"  Skilled  to  pull  wires,  he  baffles  Nature's  hope, 
Who  sure  intended  him  to  stretch  a  rope." 


America  listened  respectfully  to  Huxley's  sharp 
criticism  in  his  farewell  speech  at  New  York,  but 
his  caution,  "eternal  suspicion  is  the  price  of 
liberty,"  was  soon  forgotten  in  the  flood  tide  of 
industrial  prosperity. 

The  first  note  of  doubt  in  this  peaceful  and  pas 
sive  confidence  in  an  ideal  was  aroused  by  the 
inrush  of  a  new  immigration,  more  difficult  of 
absorption  than  the  old.  Aldrich,  in  his  poem 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  143 

"Unguarded  Gates,"  gave  warning  of  perils  hitherto 
unheeded. 

"  O  Liberty,  white  Goddess !  is  it  well 
To  leave  the  gates  unguarded  ?    On  thy  breast 
Fold  Sorrow's  children,  soothe  the  hurts  of  fate, 
Lift  the  down-trodden,  but  with  hands  of  steel 
Stay  those  who  to  thy  sacred  portals  come 
To  waste  the  gifts  of  freedom.    Have  a  care 
Lest  from  thy  brow  the  clustered  stars  be  torn 
And  trampled  in  the  dust.    For  so  of  old 
The  thronging  Goth  and  Vandal  trampled  Rome, 
And  where  the  temples  of  the  Csesars  stood 
The  lean  wolf  unmolested  made  her  lair." 

I^y_  1890,  American  apathy  had  disappeared. 
Aroused  by  the  problem  of  this  new  immigration, — 
with  that  great  solvent,  the  public  land,  exhausted, — 
with  new  and  unexpected  transformations  in  the 
industrial  world, — above  all,  with  a  new  generation 
of  citizens,  seeking  again,  as  had  their  fathers  in 
their  youth,  ideals  by  which  to  guide  their  conduct, 
the  nation  awakened  from  the  dream  that  democ 
racy,  without  effort,  cures  all  ills. 

The  first  result  of  this  rude  awakening  was 
reaction  against  the  ideal  itself.  The  vision  had  f 
failed  in  part, — it  must  be  altogether  wrong.  In  its 
place  was  raised  the  ideal  of  "good  administration,"^ 
which,  let  it  be  established  by  whatever  manipula 
tion,  even  trickery,  was  justified  of  its  works. 
Though  proclaimed  discreetly,  this  was  but  the  old 


144  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

ideal  of  government  by  the  wisest, — an  ideal  whose 
fatal  defect  is  that  it  must,  in  the  end,  be  main 
tained  by  despotic  force.  Nor  was  the  reaction 
against  democracy  confined  to  America.  Since  the: 
middle  of  the  nineteenth  century,  Europe  also  had;: 
professed  her  faith  in  the  vision,  and  yet  had  seen! 
new  times  give  birth  to  new  evils.  In  England, 
especially,  popular  self-government,  manhood  suf 
frage,  had  been  preached  as  a  panacea  for  national 
diseases,  and  beginning  with  the  Reform  Bill  of 
1867,  the  solution  of  every  difficulty  had  been 
sought  in  a  farther  expansion  of  the  franchise.  The 
ardent  political  reformers  of  the  mid-century  them 
selves  believed,  and  imposed  their  faith  upon  the 
nation,  that  popular  government  assured  perfection. 
Failing  to  realize  a  perfect  society,  these  same  lead 
ers,  their  youthful  dreams  shattered,  sounded  the 
note  of  distrust  in  their  own  earlier  ideals.  Permit 
me  to  expand  and  restate  this  general  reaction  by 
paraphrase  and  citation  from  the  Dodge  Lectures 
of  1908  by  Mr.  Bryce.  This  distinguished  publicist 
there  traces  the  history  of  the  ideal  of  democracy, 
stating  that  in  the  later  eighteenth  century,  and  the 
earlier  nineteenth,  there  was  in  America  a  devoted 
faith  in  government  of  the  people  by  the  people. 
In  spite  of  those  who  doubted,  and  whose  doubts 
placed  in  our  constitution  checks  upon  hastily  con 
sidered  popular  action,  this  faith  became  a  creed. 
It  produced  in  America  a  great  sympathy  with  the 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  145 

European  revolutions  of  1830  and  1848.  In  Europe 
itself  there  was  passionate  expression  of  belief  in 
a  democracy  that  would  secure  "a  reign  of  brother 
hood  and  peace,  an  age  of  tranquil  prosperity  and 
assured  order."  Since  1870,  says  Mr.  Bryce,  there" 
has  been  reaction.  Even  though  conditions  of  life 
and  happiness  have  undoubtedly  improved,  therei 
has  been  disappointment.  The  ills  of  society  under 
other  governmental  forms  have,  indeed,  disap-  j 
peared,  but  new  ills  have  replaced  them.  "The 
citizens  have  failed  to  respond  to  the  demand  for 
active  virtue  and  intelligent  public  spirit  which  free.... 
government  makes  and  must  make.  Everywhere 
there  is  the  same  contrast  between  that  which  the 
theory  of  democracy  requires  and  that  which  the 
practice  of  democracy  reveals."  It  is,  he  continues,", 
the  "average  man"  who  is  responsible.  "The  gov 
ernment  is  his.  Officials  are  only  his  agents,  work 
ing  under  his  eye.  The  principles  of  a  democracy 
ascribe  and  must  ascribe  to  him  the  supreme  and 
final  voice  in  the  conduct  of  public  affairs.  He  can 
not  disclaim  his  responsibility  without  the  risk  of 
forfeiting  his  rights." 

These  are  wise  words  addressed  to  young  men 
about  to  assume  the  duties  of  citizenship,  but  in 
one  respect  I  think  they  are  in  error.  They  still  \ 
proclaim  the  vision  of  an  impossible  democracy, — 
a  vision  of  Utopia.  "Everywhere,"  says  Mr. 
Bryce,  "there  is  the  same  contrast  between  that 


146  THE  POWER  t>F  IDEALS 

which  the  theory  of  democracy  requires  and  that 
which  the  practice  of  democracy  reveals."  He, 
too,  inspired  in  youth  by  a  vision  of  governmental 
perfection,  now  experiences  the  reaction  from 
failure  to  reach  that  goal.  For  many,  such  reaction 
results  in  outright  pessimism.  I  well  remember  a 
conversation,  some  years  ago,  with  one  who,  about 
1850,  had  been  an  enthusiast  in  the  cause  of  a  wider 
franchise  in  England.  "Do  you  in  America,"  he 
said,  "still  believe  in  democracy?"  and  then  added, 
"I  once  had  faith  in  it  also." 

If  this  Utopian  ideal  of  democracy  is  the  thing 
to  be  tested,  then,  indeed  "that  which  the  theory  of 
democracy  requires"  is  sadly  lacking  in  "that  which 
the  practice  of  democracy  reveals."  But  there  was 
a  fallacy  in  the  vision.  It  misled  men,  for  there  is 
no  human  perfection,  and  there  is,  and  can  be,  no 
such  thing  on  earth  as  perfect  government.  Society 
is  an  organism,  changing,  growing,  putting  off  old 
forms,  and  putting  on  new  ones.  The  true  test 
of  democracy  is  not  fulfilment;  it  is  progressive 
betterment.  Let  us  return  to  the  average  man. 
Who  that  knows  the  history  of  Europe  will  deny 
that  in  intelligence,  in  humanity,  in  toleration,  in 
sympathy,  in  physical  comforts,  in  respect  for  the 
government  under  which  he  lives, — his  own  govern 
ment,  because  he  owns  it, — the  average  man  of  the 
twentieth  century  is  far  superior  to  his  brother  of 
a  hundred  years  ago?  This  is  not  to  assert  that 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  147 

these  betterments  are  exclusively  the  products  of 
democracy,  but  that  under  democracy  they  have 
grown  with  a  rapidity  unknown  to  any  other  form 
of  governmental  institutions. 

In  America,  up  to  1870  at  least,  there  was  the 
same  advance,  after  which  there  was  a  resting  time 
in  the  world  of  spirit,  partly  due  indeed  to  our  very 
exaggeration  of  the  ideal  of  democracy, — to  our 
fallacious  belief  in  an  impossible  vision.  Today  we 
see  more  clearly  both  the  merits  and  the  limitation 
of  democracy.  Political  liberty,  equality  before  the 
law,  fraternity  in  human  sympathy,  we  may  hope 
to  secure  through  government.  Industrial  liberty, 
equality  of  opportunity,  must  yield  in  part,  at  least, 
to  the  organic  sense  of  the  nation, — to  fraternity. 
Political  parties  in  America  are  today  divided,  in 
theory,  by  the  differing  limits  they  would  place  on 
industrial  liberty  and  equality  of  opportunity,  but 
they  are  in  agreement  that  some  limit  is  necessary, 
and  the  cause  of  this  agreement"  is  a  higher  appre 
ciation  of  the  ideal  of  fraternity.  This  is  our 
American  conception  of  social  democracy,  but  we 
no  longer  hold  it  perfect  in  itself, — it  is  but  progress 
toward  some  unseen  goal.  Today,  youth  again 
asserting  its  faith  in  ideals,  the  nation  reawakened, 
gropes  to  resume  the  path  of  betterment,  and  it  has 
this  advantage  over  an  earlier  time,  that  its  view 
is  clearer,  its  method  more  sane,  since  men, — even 
average  men, — have  cast  aside  the  dream  of  democ- 


148  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

j 

j  racy  as  the  perfect  state,  but  still  cling  to  it,  and 

exalt   it   in   government,   as   the   safest   means   of 
steady,  peaceful  advance. 

It  is  beyond  the  scope  of  this  lecture,  and  beyond 
my  privilege,  to  indicate  the  lines  of  this  new  ad 
vance.  There  are  many  faiths,  and  as  many 
priests,  who  would  willingly  serve  as  guides.  On 
one  basic  principle  all  are  united, — that  democracy,' 
long  content  to  make  liberty  its  one  ideal,  asserting 
the  privilege  and  the  rights  of  the  individual  in 
society,  means  today,  rather,  a  conception  of  society 
where  the  ideal  of  fraternity  rests  side  by  side  with 
that  of  liberty,  where  duty  shares  with  rights.  But 
my  text  has  been  simply  the  vision  of  democracy, 
and  in  tracing  its  advance  in  America,  if  I  have 
denied  it  qualities  ascribed  to  it  in  earlier  times,  it 
is  because  of  faith  in  it  as  an  ideal  medium  of 
development.  My  text  is,  then,  "Faith  in  Democ 
racy,"  not  to  be  unfairly  tested  by  the  impossible 
standards  of  perfection,  but  judged  as  a  progres 
sively  bettered  organism;  with  a  healthier  body,  a 
mind  more  open  to  reason,  and  a  soul  more 
sensitive  to  ideals. 

In  concluding  this,  the  last  lecture  on  The  Power 
of  Ideals  in  American  History,  permit  me  a  word 
in  recapitulation.  Some  of  the  ideals  I  have  touched 
upon  are  not  now  influential  in  national  life.  It 
would  be  idle  today  to  appeal  to  anti-slavery  senti- 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  149 

ment  in  the  sense  in  which  it  was  understood  in 
the  fifties.  Manifest  destiny,  so  far  as  the  craze^ 
for  territorial  expansion  is  concerned,  is  fortu-1 
nately  no  longer  an  obsession,  though  we  wisely 
cling  to  belief  in  a  high  spiritual  destiny.  These/ 
ideals,  as  formerly  expressed,  were  suited  to  parf 
ticular  occasions,  and  have  passed  away.  But  thi$ 
in  no  way  weakens  the  statement  of  their  force1 
while  they  existed,  nor  lessens  the  truth  of  the 
conclusion  that  ideals  have  powerfully  affected  the 
course  of  our  history.  Indeed,  one  may  go  beyond 
this  and,  though  proving  by  analysis  and  historical 
study  that  an  ideal  was  conceived  in  error,  and 
wrong  in  application,  may  yet  postulate  the  political, 
even  the  moral,  force  of  the  ideal  itself.  This  fact 
I  have  just  attempted  to  make  clear  in  relation  to 
some  supposed  attributes  of  the  ideal  of  democracy. 
Briefly,  my  purpose  throughout  has  not  been  to  pro 
claim  certain  ideals  as  in  themselves  always 
admirable,  but  to  assert  their  force,  and  by  infer;- 
ence  to  prove  that  since  America  has  never  beeft 
without  ideals,  she  cannot  today  dispense  with 
them.  If  this  be  accepted,  it  follows  that  evertf 
one,  especially  every  young  man,  should  feel  the 
duty  of  self-examination,  seeking  to  discover  his 
own  ideals  and  sentiments  toward  national  prob 
lems  and  personal  life.  Having  so  discovered  them 
he  must,  if  he  be  a  real  man,  seek  to  translate  them 
into  action.  Thus  fulfilling  his  duty  as  a  citizen 


150  THE  POWER  OF  IDEALS 

he  will  help  to  mould  his  country,  and  to  preserve 
it  from  wreck  in  times  of  crisis.  For  it  is  in  such 
times  that  ideals  and  sentiments  rule,  and  decide 
the  fate  of  peoples  and  of  states. 

Three  ideals  treated  in  these  lectures  still  live  in 
America.  Religion,  a  faith  in  divine  purpose,  finds 
satisfaction  in  this  life,  in  service.  It  is  the  foun 
tain  head  of  all  ideals,  and  we  may  state  our  belief 
with  Lowell :  "Moral  supremacy  is  the  only  one  that 
leaves  monuments  and  not  ruins  behind  it." 
Democracy,  not  as  Utopia  but  as  the  best  method 
of  steady  progress,  and  with  new  emphasis  upon 
fraternity,  permeates  our  national  consciousness. 
Nationality  is  still  the  most  powerful  political  sen 
timent  in  the  United  States,  and  in  the  whole  world. 
Those  who  would  discard  it  among  the  nations  of 
the  earth  are  visionary,  for  the  time  is  so  remote 
when  the  sentiment  of  nationality  will  have  dis 
appeared,  as  to  be  beyond  the  vision  of  the  great 
mass  of  men.  But  nationality  to  us  means  more  , 
than  union  in  government;  it  means  union  in  all  \ 
American  ideals,  the  moral  assets  of  the  nation./ 
With  Longfellow  we  profess  our  faith: 

"  Thou,  too,  sail  on,  O  Ship  of  State ! 
Sail  on,  O  Union,  strong  and  great ! 
Humanity  with  all  its  fears, 
With  all  the  hopes  of  future  years, 
Is  hanging  breathless  on  thy  fate ! 


IN  AMERICAN  HISTORY  151 

Fear  not  each  sudden  sound  and  shock, 

Tis  of  the  wave  and  not  the  rock; 

'Tis  but  the  flapping  of  the  sail, 

And  not  a  rent  made  by  the  gale ! 

In  spite  of  rock  and  tempest's  roar, 

In  spite  of  false  lights  on  the  shore, 

Sail  on,  nor  fear  to  breast  the  sea ! 

Our  hearts,  our  hopes,  are  all  with  thee, 

Our  hearts,  our  hopes,  our  prayers,  our  tears, 

Our  faith  triumphant  o'er  our  fears, 

Are  all  with  thee,— are  all  with  thee." 


INDEX 


INDEX 

Adams,  John  Quincy,  and  right  of  petition,  49. 

Acton,  Lord,  on  Lee's  surrender,  140. 

Aldrich,  Thomas  Bailey,  on  immigration,  143. 

American  Revolution,  and  nationality,  4. 

Ames,  Fisher,  on  democracy,  133. 

Anti-slavery,  and  nationality,  15,  21;  Iowa  Band  on,  114. 

Barry,  William,  on  American  religion,  121. 

Beecher,  Henry  Ward,  service  of,  in  Civil  War,  116. 

Beecher,  Lyman,  on  America's  inheritance,  82. 

Bogart,  "keynote  of  American  history,"  xi. 

Bright,  John,  and  Civil  War,  140. 

Bryant,  William  Cullen,  on  American  freedom,  137. 

Bryce,  James,  on  American  excitability,  75 ;  and  democracy, 

144-146. 

Bushnell,  Horace,  on  the  "economic  man,"  xii. 
Calhoun,  and  nullification,  8;  on  liberty,  9,  14;  and  Texas, 

81. 

Canadian  rebellion  of  1837,  and  manifest  destiny,  74-79. 
"Caroline  Affair,"  76. 

Central  America,  plans  of  American  expansion  in,  89. 
Civil  War,  and  nationality,  14,  27;  and  manifest  destiny, 

91;  and  religion,  116;  and  democracy,  139. 
Clay,  Henry,  on  American  power,  88. 
Clergy,  leadership  of,  in  civic  life,  97,   104,   122;  of  the 

West  and  slavery,  114. 

Commons,  John  Rogers,  on  America  in  the  forties,  138. 
Compromise  of  1850,  52. 
Cotton  mills,  and  anti-slavery,  47. 
Cranch,  Christopher,  on  divine  guidance,  123. 
Crandall,  Miss,  girls'  school  and  anti-slavery,  42. 
Gushing,  on  British  encroachment,  78. 


156  INDEX 

Davis,  Jefferson,  on  Declaration  of  Independence,  56; 
inaugural  speech,  57. 

Declaration  of  Independence,  Davis  on,  56;  quoted,  129; 
signers'  idea  of,  129. 

Delane,  John  Thaddeus,  on  Sherman's  March,  140. 

Democracy,  American,  Lieut.  Governor  Head  on,  77;  and 
monarchy,  81;  and  Europe,  88;  and  Unitarianism,  100; 
and  religious  ideals,  107;  new  vision  of,  in  1830,  136. 
reaction  against,  143-146. 

Dickens,  Charles,  on  American  bombast,  90. 

Divine  purpose,  American  faith  in,  122. 

Dwight,  Timothy,  on  constitutional  convention  of  1787,  4. 

Elliot,  Charles,  British  agent  in  Texas,  efforts  of,  80;  on 
American  energy,  81. 

Emerson,  Ralph  Waldo,  on  effect  of  Sumter,  20;  on  aboli 
tion,  46. 

England,  American  feeling  against,  69;  Gushing  on  en 
croachment  of,  78;  and  Texas,  79;  Calhoun  on,  81; 
interest  in  Civil  War,  139;  Reform  Bill  of  1867,  144. 

Federal  taxation,  and  nationality,  7. 

Fiske,  John,  on  Jefferson,  132. 

Fraternity,  and  democracy,  147. 

Garrison,  William  Lloyd,  on  slavery,  36-38;  church  oppo 
sition  to,  40;  advocates  northern  secession,  40;  Inde 
pendence  Day  speech,  51. 

Gilder,  Joseph,  on  American  duty,  94. 

"Good  Administration,"  and  democracy,   143. 

Greeley,  Horace,  on  Oregon,  84. 

Hale,  Edward  Everett,  "The  Man  Without  a  Country,"  27. 

Hall,  Captain  Basil,  on  American  feeling  against  England, 
69;  on  democracy,  134. 

Hammond,  Governor,  on  slave  labor,  52. 

Head,  Lieut.  Governor,  on  American  democracy,  77. 

Holmes,  Oliver  Wendell,  on  secession  of  South  Carolina, 
16. 


INDEX  157 

Home  Missions,  and  nationality,  103,  109. 

Hooker,  Thomas,  on  democratic  government,  99. 

Howe,  Julia  Ward,  "Battle  Hymn  of  Republic,"  22. 

Hughes,  Charles  Evans,  on  democracy,  127. 

Humor,  American,  and  manifest  destiny,  90. 

Ideals,  seeming  lack  of,  in  America,  117,  142;  pulpit  leader 
ship  in,  119;  revival  of,  119,  143,  147;  democratic,  136; 
confusion  of,  138;  present-day  American,  149. 

Immigration,  and  democracy,  137;  Bryant  on,  137;  Aldrich 
on,  143. 

Iowa  Band,  110. 

Jackson,  Andrew,  on  nullification,  12;  and  democracy,  135; 
compared  with  Jefferson,  136. 

Jefferson,  Thomas,  theory  of  democracy,  130-133;  inaugu 
ral  address,  131;  and  rule  of  the  majority,  132;  Fiske 
on,  132;  democracy  of,  compared  with  Jacksonian,  136. 

Kansas-Nebraska  question,  effect  of,  53. 

King,  Thomas  Starr,  service  of,  in  Civil  War,  116. 

Liberty,  Washington  on,  5. 

Lieber,  Francis,  on  Panama  Canal,  89. 

Lincoln,  on  emancipation,  23;  election  of,  in  1860,  55;  Eng 
lish  view  of,  140;  and  democracy,  140;  Punch's  recan 
tation  on,  141. 

Longfellow,  Henry  Wadsworth,  on  ideal  of  nationality, 
150. 

Lowell,  James  Russell,  on  Mexican  War,  15;  triumph  of 
ideals,  16;  slavery,  21;  Mexican  War,  52;  on  manifest 
destiny,  93 ;  on  the  "boss,"  142 ;  on  "moral  supremacy," 
150. 

Lounsbury,  Thomas  Raynesford,  on  effect  of  Sumter,  17. 

Mackay,  Charles,  on  English  and  American  destinies,  91. 

McDuffie,  Governor,  on  slavery  and  democracy,  48;  on 
Oregon,  83. 

McKinley,  William,  on  American  destiny,  92. 

Marx,  Karl,  and  Civil  War,  140. 


158  INDEX 

Materialistic  historians,  x-xiii ;  and  anti-slavery,  33-35, 
59;  and  westward  movement,  65. 

Mexican  War,  and  anti-slavery,  51. 

Militant  patriotism,  against  England,  69. 

Moore,  Thomas,  on  American  Revolution,  x. 

Monroe  Doctrine,  and  nationality,  6. 

Nationality,  and  anti-slavery,  47;  and  manifest  destiny, 
68;  and  militant  patriotism,  69;  and  Home  Missions, 
103;  great  power  of,  150. 

Nullification  and  nationality,  8. 

Oberlin  College,  and  anti-slavery,  39. 

Oregon,  Dickerson  on,  71;  Benton  on,  72;  and  Folk's  cam 
paign,  81;  compromise  on,  83;  McDume  on,  83;  Gree- 
ley  on,  84;  New  York  Herald  on,  85. 

Paine,  Thomas,  influence  of,  in  America,  128;  Cheetham 
on,  128;  Randolph  on,  128. 

Phillips  Andover  Academy,  and  anti-slavery,  43. 

Phillips,  Wendell,  on  ideals  in  Civil  War,  59. 

Pike,  Albert,  "Dixie,"  25. 

Proctor,  Edna  Dean,  "John  Brown,"  22. 

Pulpit,  and  idealism,  119. 

Religious  ideals,  and  manifest  destiny,  68;  and  national 
ideals,  101,  103;  and  democracy,  107;  influence  of  the 
West,  108-115;  force  of,  reviewed,  120-124. 

Schur2,  Carl,  on  effect  of  Sumter,  19. 

Service,  the  doctrine  of,  119,  147. 

Seward,  William  H.,  on  American  idealism,  53. 

Simons,  class  interests,  XL 

South,  nationality  developed  by  Civil  War,  25. 

Spanish-American  War,  and  manifest  destiny,  92. 

Stephens,  Alexander,  inaugural  speech  on  slavery,  58. 

Sumner,  William,  on  election  of  Jackson,  135. 

Sumter,  attack  on,  and  nationality,  16,  20. 

Tariff,  and  nationality,  7;  of  1828,  8. 

Texas,  and  manifest  destiny,  79. 


INDEX  159 

Timrod,  Henry,  "Cotton  Boll,"  26. 

Thompson^  George,  at  Phillips  Andover  Academy,  43;  and 

Boston  riot  of  1835,  46. 
Todd,  John,  sermon  of,  103. 
Unitarianism,  and  democracy,  100;  Jefferson  on,  101;  and 

liberty,  102. 

Utopia,  democracy  does  not  insure,  145. 
War  of  1812,  and  nationality,  5. 
Warburton,  Eliot,  on  American  destiny,  87. 
Washington,  George,  on  virtue  in  politics,  98. 
Webster,  Daniel,  on  nullification,  10. 
Westward  movement,  essence  of,  65;  progress  of,  70;  in 

relation  to  Texas,  74;   poem  on  opportunity  of,  86; 

and  democracy,  136. 
Whittier,  John  Greenleaf,   on  abolition,  41;   on   Mexican 

War,  51;  on  Kansas  emigration,  54. 
Wilson,  Woodrow,  on  westward  movement,  65. 
Yale,  Elihu,  lines  on  tomb  of,  124. 


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